Reborn
by The Girl in the Red Jacket
Summary: A lot of things change when history becomes to old it is forgotten. A lot stays the same as well. Finding each other is only the beginning. Set in modern times, or close enough. Slash.
1. Default Chapter

_Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.  
  
Author's Note: As always, thanks to Mandi for beta'ing. This is different than anything I've done in the LotR fandom before, though I'm certainly no stranger to writing slash! It also involves reincarnation, which I've never really thought about before. Anyway, it's not what I've normally been writing in this fandom but the muses picked it up and here it is! Hopefully, and with no promises, I'll be able to update once a week for the rest of the summer.  
  
Feedback is very much wanted. Any references you catch would tickle me pink. Also, feel free to make guesses about who is who, though it's pretty obvious in this chapter, and who will be making an appearance. There will be quite a few of them running around when all it said and done!_  
  
**Chapter 1**  
  
"Let's get out of here."  
  
Finley half smiled at the line and nodded. Where had he heard it before?  
  
That movie, just after he'd gotten home. Ben had been dating...Julia? Jenna? Josie? He couldn't remember. He could never keep track of them.  
  
It hadn't been bad, sort of funny, and Ben had stayed with him that night, after his girl of the week had left. Ben didn't mind when he had to wake up with him in the middle of the night, as if he was a child scared of the monsters under the bed. Or, at least, he never said so.  
  
"You got a place around here?"  
  
"Yeah. Why? Got a wife at home?"  
  
There was a short laugh. "Hardly. No, I'm just moving back. Staying with my parents until the house I bought becomes available."  
  
"My place then, unless you'd prefer a hotel?"  
  
"Your place is fine."  
  
"If you don't have a car we're walking."  
  
Another laugh, this one a bit smothered. "I have a car. Do I get a name before you get in it?"  
  
"Finley. Fin. Yours?"  
  
"Alexander."

* * *

Finley had gotten used to the trains. Living so close to the tracks he had had to or go crazy. He smiled ironically and took another long drag, the glow of his cigarette flaring. Maybe it would have if he wasn't already crazy.  
  
"That's not good for you, you know?"  
  
Finley glanced at the man currently sharing his bed. "Really? Hadn't heard. When'd that happen?"  
  
Alexander snorted and rolled over so he was looking at the hunched figure. Finley sat on the edge of his bed, uncaring of the cold of the little room, resting his elbow on his knee and smoking his second cigarette of the night or, at least, since Alexander had met him.  
  
"I don't suppose you would listen to me if I told you to quit," Alexander murmured. "I will anyway. You should quit."  
  
Finley chuckled, took another drag, and flicked some ashes into the cup of lukewarm water on the bedside table. He half turned to look at the other man. "You've got a funny idea of pillow talk. You a doctor or an activist or something?"  
  
"The first," Alexander answered. "And what about you?"  
  
"Live off a pension at the moment," Finley replied, turning away, taking another drag. "Got odd jobs here and there. Nothing special."  
  
"Where's the pension from?" Alexander asked, curious despite himself.  
  
"Army," Finley answered, surprising himself. What was he doing?  
  
There was silence for a moment, then rustling. A cool hand touched his back with surprising gentleness and rested just briefly on a thick scar. "Is that where you got this?"  
  
Finley flinched at the touch and the hand quickly withdrew. He said nothing.  
  
"Sorry," Alexander said.  
  
Finley shrugged. He didn't feel a whole lot of anger. He didn't know why. Normally he kicked anyone out that asked but... "S'okay."  
  
He stubbed out the cigarette and turned, giving the reclining man a shaded, half smile, "No more small talk."  
  
"Good plan."

* * *

Finley had always felt small around his older brother. Things hadn't changed. Ben was broader, stronger, tanned and he looked, well, healthy. He'd never left the army. It was home for him but they didn't deploy him much anymore. He was a combat trainer, making good money and stationed near enough to the little apartment Finley called home.  
  
And as he got out of his car and embraced Finley warmly his little brother felt, just for a moment, safe.  
  
"You look well," Ben commented, slinging an arm around Finley's shoulders even after he released him.  
  
"Liar," Finley commented with a very small smile.  
  
"Better than last time I saw you," Ben amended. "Have you slept well?"  
  
"No," Finley admitted. "I used a few sleeping aids and that's it until I really need them again."  
  
Ben's face said it all. "Relax. I'm not going to turn into a drug user or anything."  
  
"We need to find a better way for you to get a good night's sleep," Ben said firmly.  
  
Finley felt just a bit of warmth because of the we. He had problems but...at least he wasn't alone.  
  
That brought its own set of problems though. He knew he depended on his brother, probably more than he should. He knew if Ben ever got sick of him he wouldn't know how to cope, might not be able to cope, but, hell, he was only just coping as it was anyway.  
  
"Come on, get in, we're going shopping," Ben said, pulling his little brother with him back into the car.  
  
"Why?" Finley asked, doing as his brother said anyway, reminding him absently, "Seatbelt."  
  
"Because if I know you all you've got in your fridge is a few beers and some old cartons of leftovers that are probably plotting their escape as we speak," Ben told him.  
  
Finley snorted. "I don't drink, you know that. I have eggs, I think and some bread."  
  
Ben raised an eyebrow. "Sunshine, that ain't going feed me for even one meal."  
  
"Fine, shopping," Finley muttered as they pulled away from his building. "Don't call me sunshine, either."  
  
"Ben, half of this stuff is going to go bad," Finley protested as his brother pulled another item off the shelf and dropped it into an already rather full shopping cart.  
  
"No it's not. I'm going to eat it," Ben told him. "And so are you."  
  
He poked his brother very gently in the ribs, knowing too well how little padding the younger man had. "You need fattening up, kid."  
  
"Fuck you, old man," Finley replied but with a hint of a smile. "Just because I don't have your extra padding..."  
  
"HA!" Ben snorted. "Extra padding, really Fin, if that's your idea of an insult you're losing your touch."  
  
Finley chuckled. It was true enough, his brother was muscle and that was that. "It's too much though."  
  
"I'm staying two days and you might eat like a bird but I eat like a cow," Ben told him. "I'm not listening to any more complaints from you until we leave the store. Do you still like Lucky Charms?"  
  
"Not since I was eight," Finley grimaced.  
  
"Oh, you're no fun at all," Ben groused.  
  
Ben smiled at Finley's chuckle. He couldn't help but worry about his little brother. The first time he'd seen him, still in the hospital then, swathed in bandages and so drugged he could barely open his eyes, he had known he was damaged more than physically. It had never been fixed, he didn't think. He wasn't sure it could be.  
  
He felt Finley stiffen beside him when he was examining cereal boxes, trying to decide which would be the most disgustingly sugary just so he could get away with eating it this once.  
  
"Hello Fin," someone was pleasantly greeting as he turned to look at his brother. A man had stopped in front of them. He looked around Ben's age, thin, dark tied back hair, beard and silvery eyes that looked oddly familiar.  
  
"Alex," Finley replied, his voice...strange, Ben couldn't quite place the emotion in it.  
  
The aforementioned Alex smiled at Finley and it all seemed pleasant enough but Ben knew the other man's eyes were on him and he thought, maybe, there was a hint of a challenge in them.  
  
"This is my brother Ben," Finley said, breaking the strained silence.  
  
"Nice to meet you," Ben said, extending his hand and, in doing so, stepping a bit in front of his little brother. Not that he didn't trust the guy he just didn't trust the guy.  
  
"Likewise," Alex answered, his smile turning genuine. Then his pager went off. He cursed and glanced at it.  
  
"Ah, damn," he smiled apologetically. "I've got to run. I'll talk to you some other time, Fin."  
  
Ben watched him as he handed his basket of groceries to one of the store employees and hurried out of the store. He looked at his little brother's expressionless face and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Who was that?" he asked.  
  
"Just a guy," Finley answered.  
  
"Just a guy," Ben repeated. "A guy who is what to you?"  
  
"An acquaintance," Finley replied.  
  
"Don't lie to me, brother, you were never good at it," Ben told him. "Another one night stand?"  
  
"What I do between my sheets isn't your business," Finley muttered.  
  
"Anything that could get you hurt is my business, Fin," Ben sighed. "Tell me you used condoms."  
  
"I always use condoms. I'm not looking to die, Ben," Finley snapped. "I've never taken the chance to before, why the hell would I do something stupid and do it slowly?"  
  
Ben's eyes softened a bit as he looked at his brother's angry face. He wasn't a child anymore, he wasn't an innocent, but Ben had to constantly remind himself of that and he never stopped worrying about him.  
  
"I know, I know," Ben soothed. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? You're my little brother, it's my job to worry about you."  
  
"You can't control everything," Finley told him tonelessly, rubbing his arm.  
  
"I know, but that doesn't stop me from being concerned," Ben replied. He looked around and sighed. This was not the right place for Finley to go off on him. Half the time he would snap and then get real weepy, the other half of them time he would get explosively angry and occasionally he'd get so spacey Ben wondered if he should take him to the hospital or something.  
  
"Come on, let's buy this junk and get the fuck outta here," Ben said, giving Finley a nudge with his shoulder. "Get some take out, relax, and you can tell me about it, alright?"  
  
Finley nodded wordlessly. It was not a comforting sign. Ben sighed. It looked like it would be a very long night.

* * *

The world was dark.  
  
It was dark and it was cold and it was...Oh god, it was so, so lonely.  
  
"Ben!"  
  
The name echoed off into the darkness and Finley shivered as the black mists seemed to wrap more tightly about him.  
  
Oh God, he could hardly breathe they pressed so tightly against him.  
  
He fell, panting, to his knees. His whole body ached with a fierce pain and he felt dizzy from the lack of air. It was killing him. Whatever this place was it was going to kill him.  
  
He choked on a sob and struggled to stay on his knees, knowing he would never get up if he fell. If he let himself lay down that would be the end of it and something, some purpose, kept him fighting against the cold and the dark.  
  
It reached him slowly, the warmth, and he shivered more fiercely because of it for one moment it was there and the next the cold bombarded him again, weakening him further. It was a reprieve, though, however brief and he clung to it as best he could with hands and a mind numbed by the cold.  
  
Then, suddenly, that light and warmth exploded about him joyfully, so bright he had to shield his eyes. He blinked and they managed to focus.  
  
A man stood before him, more noble and great than he had ever seen. He was speaking, but his words were muffled somehow and though he knew he should be frightened at this strange man he was not, for the light shone about him, the light was him, and he came as a healer and so he would be, to more than one trapped soul.  
  
He extended his hand, eyes kind, face glowing. He reached out, took it and...  
  
"FINLEY!"  
  
Finley awoke with a start and a choked gasp. His lungs felt as if they had been flooded with air after a long drought and he eyes felt as though they had been rubbed raw.  
  
Ben was next to him, had been shaking him, but seeing he was awake he clasped his little brother against him, looking worried. Finley trembled in his arms, trying to make sense out of everything.  
  
He had never had that particular dream before though God knew he had had worse and he had had weirder ones.  
  
He tried to relax, tried to focus on Ben's words. His brother kept a tight hold of him. Finley spared a moment to hate himself for doing this to his brother but only a moment.  
  
That was as long as he could keep that man's face out of his mind.  
  
His name was Aragorn, he knew, and he had saved him from...from something awful.  
  
Finley shuddered and gave a soft moan, remembering the darkness. Ben hushed him, rocking him back and forth as if Finley was a child again. He buried his face against his big brother and wept, shaking in his arms.  
  
If he had not been so distraught and so muddled about this new dream he would have recognized that his saviour had Alexander's face. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

**Author's Notes: Thanks as always to Mandi for being a wonderful beta. Sorry it's a day late, couldn't log in to upload last night!**

**Chapter 2**

Finley took a long drag from his cigarette, pressing his back against the cool stone of the building. It had been two weeks since he had hooked up with Alexander and since then he hadn't slept with anyone else.

That wasn't unusual, he normally went longer without finding someone to share his bed with for a night. What was unusual is that he and Alexander had shared his bed at what Finley could guess was every available opportunity.

The night Ben had left he had found himself back at the club where they had first met and, without hearing so much as a song, Alexander had found them and they had left together. He realized, when he showed up there the next night and Alexander had appeared at his elbow almost as soon as he walked inside, that the other man was waiting for him.

It had been a surprise to him, when he arrived and Alexander didn't appear at his side, that he was waiting for the other man, hanging around the door until he appeared. If he didn't appear, Finley stayed awhile and then left for his empty bed.

They always went to his place, though Alexander had casually mentioned he had moved into his new place. They always had sex, and, Finley thought with a satisfied smirk, good sex at that. But they talked too, a bit, and Finley found that with Alexander he could be... versatile and he normally wasn't at all.

He flicked ash off the end of his cigarette. Tonight he had decided to pick someone new up. Enough bullshit. He wasn't looking for a relationship. He wasn't looking for anything but a quick tumble. Everything else was too complicated and he couldn't deal with that.

He'd entered the club and immediately felt overwhelmed by the noise and press of people. The place was abnormally crowded and most of the time that didn't bother him much but sometimes... Finley smiled sardonically and stretched out his hand, the one holding his cigarette.

It shook and there was no stopping it. Hell, being out of the crowd and two cigarettes hadn't stopped it. He was ready to give up, go home, and read as long as his eyes stayed open.

He heard a car pull into the space in front of him and he looked up as he put the cigarette back in his mouth, hoping it would steady him just a bit more before he left. A pair of silvery eyes met his grey ones questioningly.

He couldn't look away. Something about those damned eyes drew him in until he didn't want to. He saw the question in those eyes, he could read people well enough. Neither of them really knew what they were doing. He could walk away now and they would leave it at that or he could get in the car and they would go from there.

His choice. Too bad he had no fucking clue what he was going to or wanted to do.

The silver eyes held him still and he felt, for a moment, pinned into a corner. Alexander was leaning over the steering wheel and he looked relaxed enough, the bastard...

Stressed already, trembling and aching, Finley inhaled too sharply and coughed. Hacked would be a better word. He bent over, trying to get his breath back.

The car door opened and he vaguely recognized the quick footsteps. A hand settled on his back. The tenderness in that touch surprised Finley.

"You really should quit, you know," Alexander told him, his other arm slipped around Finley's waist more to steady him than anything else.

"Can't," Finley managed hoarsely. He stuck one trembling hand out abruptly, the other was clasping Alexander's arm. "It's the only thing that seems to help when that happens."

Alexander looked at him a bit grimly, keeping his arm where it was even as Finley stood up again. He took a final drag, wincing slightly, and then let the cigarette drop, snuffing it with his shoe.

"You want to come to my place?" Alexander asked quietly.

Finley shook his head. "Not tonight. Another night just... Not tonight."

"Okay," Alexander said, rubbing Finley's arm briefly before they got into the car.

* * *

Finley hadn't made the decision when he heard the water turn off. It was morning. Alexander had stayed the night. They hadn't done that before. They'd eaten breakfast together, some God awful cereal that Ben had munched his way through the last time he'd been there. Alexander was going straight to work, said he had a change of clothes and toothbrush in the office but he didn't have a shower.

Finley put away the dishes he'd finished washing and listened to Alexander moving about in the bathroom. He frowned and looked at the pen and scrap of paper. Wiping his hands on the dishtowel, he scribbled down his number.

It was stupid. Alexander knew where he lived, why the hell did he need his number?

The bathroom door opened. Finley decided, feeling like the bottom of his stomach was about to drop out. He strode into the hall and...

Alexander's hair was still damp and the top button of his jeans was undone. He had a piece of paper in his hand even as Finley was thrusting his number at him.

They grinned at each other and Alexander laughed. "Great minds think **_alike,_** eh?"

"Or fools never differ," Finley countered still smiling, feeling a bit, well, giddy.

Alexander was still grinning as he did up the button of his jeans. "I have to have dinner with my parents tonight. My mother seems to think I'm twelve again. Can I call you after?"

"I'd like that," Finley replied, smothering a chuckle. What was the name of that damned movie?

"Alright," Alexander came forward and kissed him briefly. "I'll see you later then."

"Right," Finley replied, surprised by the kiss, surprised by everything about this turn of events. His smile turned a bit shy as Alexander looked back at him as he walked through the door. "Bye."

* * *

"Fuck, fuck," Finley muttered as he stumbled from the bed, down the hall and finally, finally!, into the washroom where he proceeded to vomit painfully until his stomach had absolutely nothing left to give up to the porcelain gods.

A cool hand touched the back of his neck and then his forehead. Checking for a fever, probably, the man was a doctor.

"'M not sick," Finley mumbled. "Go back to bed."

He heard a snort, then the hands left for a moment, their absence made him feel cold, made him shiver a bit more on the cold tile floor as he leaned over the toilet. He heard water running and then a cool cloth pressed against his forehead and an arm wrapped around his waist supporting him.

His body felt so hot that the cool touches hurt and he gave a pained moan. "I need a smoke."

Just the thought of the flame it would take to light the cigarette and the smell of the thin curl of smoke that rose from the end made him want to retch and he dry heaved over the toilet a few times. He could feel tears coursing down his flushed cheeks and felt ashamed.

"That's your body saying no, Fin," Alexander told him, his tone gentle. "You going to puke anymore?"

Finley shook his head, the motion jerky. "Nothing left."

"Okay, come on," Alexander's hands were around his waist and he was half carried downstairs to the sofa.

He settled Finley on the couch, wrapping a thin, soft blanket around him. His body had been incredibly hot to the touch when he had woken but it cooled so rapidly Alexander thought it was unhealthy and he would prefer to keep his lover from going into shock.

He made tea. Chamomile, because he'd noticed Finley didn't sleep well early on. He set it before him and took a seat on the coffee table, still as naked as Finley was under the blanket, taking one of Finley's hands in his own.

Finley looked at the tea and reached for the pack of cigarettes he'd left there earlier. He blanched and pulled his hands away as if he'd been burned. Alexander grabbed his other hand and held it tight until Finley met his eyes.

The despair he saw there was nearly crushing.

"You get nightmares often?" Alexander asked, keeping his tone very calm.

Finley nodded, looking away, misery in every line. "I should have told you..."

"I guessed as much," Alexander told him. "You haven't slept well when you did sleep since that first night. My dad was in the military. He had nightmares and I'm guessing but I think he didn't have as hard a time as you. You're not in the military anymore and you have a pension you can live off, so I'm guessing you must have been through something pretty fucking bad."

Finley bit his lip. He didn't know what to say. Suddenly, overwhelmingly, he wanted his brother.

"I'm not going to press you for details, not just now anyway," Alexander assured him. "I'm just going to chalk it up to some mission that went awry and leave it at that until you want to tell me..."

"No, no," Finley said, shaking his head a bit desperately. "That's just it. It wasn't something that happened to me. I mean, yes, I still have nightmares about that but this one wasn't! I..."

"I...since I was a kid I've had weird dreams. They don't make any sense and they scare the hell out of me but they just... after... when I came home they really started getting bad," Finley swallowed and looked at Alexander, his eyes haunted. "There was fire, and, God, some madman who looked like my father was in the midst of it and so was I. I've never dreamt it before and nothing I can think of would make me dream it. I'm going fucking crazy. Fuck. Fuck."

"Shh, Fin, calm down," Alexander murmured.

"I'm going nuts, that's all I can think of. I don't know what the hell to do. The nightmares I get otherwise are bad enough. I don't want these!" Finley's faced was flushed with panic. "I'm crazy. I don't understand any of it otherwise. God, what the hell are you doing with me? I'm..."

His words were muffled as Alexander pulled him close. Shaking, shocked by the touch, Finley gave in and cried into his shoulder until exhaustion crept up on him and he sagged against his lover.

When he was calm enough to listen again, Alexander pulled away and regarded him carefully. "You're not going crazy. Let's figure this out, okay?"

Finley hesitated but sighed and nodded. Alexander put the tea in his hands and coaxed him to drink. "Okay. Is there anything in particular you can think of that stressed you out today?"

Finley wouldn't look at him when he answered. "I'm never... comfortable sleeping in an

unfamiliar place."

"Fin, you should have told me. We could've gone to your place," Alexander told him quietly.

"I should have, yeah, but... Unless I start staying here I'll never get used to it and if I'd told you we either would have gone to my place or you would have watched me all night and that makes it worse most of the time," Finley admitted. "I hate it when people find out I've got another problem it just... I always wonder how many more they'll find out about before they walk away."

"I'm still here, I'm not planning on going anywhere," Alexander assured him. "Anything else I should know about in advance though?"

"You want the list?" Finley chuckled humourlessly. "I couldn't even tell you. I'm so used to just living with everything I don't think about it anymore until I have to. I don't want to think about it."

"Okay, we won't then, for now," Alexander said, pausing, thinking. "Fire and a man who looked like your father... Fin, you've never said anything about your father to me before."

"There's nothing to say. He's dead," Finley replied quietly. "He's been dead for over five years."

"How did he die?" Alexander asked.

"He killed himself," Finley told him, and Alexander heard the coldness in his voice. "Blew his brains out. We never did figure out why, really. I was living there at the time, I had just been discharged and I was still wounded badly enough that I couldn't really live on my own. Ben was driving me home from physiotherapy and when we got there..."

Finley swallowed. "He was a mean bastard when he drank and he had been drinking when he did it. I suppose he wanted to leave us one fucking farewell by doing it in the front hall so we nearly tripped over his body when he came through the door."

"Jesus Christ," Alexander muttered.

"Yeah, I know," Finley said quietly. "We never got along. He...He wasn't very pleased when I moved back in with him after being discharged. We've been military men for generations and enlisting wasn't what I'd have preferred to do but, well, there weren't a whole lot of other options. He thought I was a coward when I got hurt and didn't tough it out and was discharged, I suppose."

Alexander swallowed. He had realized early on that Finley had some issues but...shit. "That could explain why you're dreaming of your father dying. There are enough unresolved issues there."

Finley snorted. "No shit."

Alexander smiled just slightly. "You can't think of anything to do with fire?"

Finley shook his head. "Never had a problem with it before."

Alexander frowned, searching for something...Wait, maybe... "Wasn't there a story about an arsonist on the news tonight?"

Finley thought but nodded slowly. "I think so..."

"There was, I remember, one of the houses he torched had people in it. They've been looking for him for awhile so the story has been in the news for a couple days," Alexander told him. "That could have stuck in the back of your mind easily enough."

Finley remained silent. He was so very tempted to accept Alexander's explanation but...The dream was a vivid, perhaps more so, than any memory he had, the marble walls of the building, the other people there that looked like, well, guards, the clothing everyone wore...It didn't make any sense!

"Right," he heard himself saying. "That...That makes sense."

Alexander moved to sit beside him and, after a moment, Finley rested his head against his

shoulder, closing his eyes. Alexander touched his hair gently. "I won't sleep again tonight."

Alexander's lips ghosted against his hair. "I'm sure we'll find something to do..."

* * *

Finley's hand shook as he took a drag from his smoke. It was a dismal day, cloudy and without sunshine but it hadn't rained yet. Finley absently wondered if it would or if it was just going to be grey all day long.

He heard the soft snick of the lock turning. He didn't move, flicking the end of the cigarette so the ashes fell off. He thought, briefly, that he should hang a picture on the wall so it would seem like he was looking at something when he sat there staring. As there wasn't anything there but a blank white wall it was rather blatantly clear he was just staring.

He inhaled and blew out a huff of smoke. The light flicked on and he blinked at the sudden brightness. Hands slid onto his shoulders gently, carefully, as if he would startle easily. Finley knew it would make more sense if he were jumpy, probable. A gun could have gone off by his ear and he wouldn't have flinched, he felt so numb.

"Bad day?" Alexander's beard tickled against his cheek.

He took another puff. "Not the greatest but it could've been worse."

"What happened?" Alexander asked.

Finley shrugged, putting the smoke out. "Saw my shrink today."

"I didn't know you had one," Alexander commented. His hands began to slowly move in circles over Finley's shoulders.

Finley flinched a little and the movement stopped abruptly, Alexander's hands falling away. He cringed and fumbled for his lighter and another smoke. "Once a month for all the good it does and testing every year to see if they can get away with reducing my pension. The shrinks are a joke."

"Every tried a different one?" Alexander offered. "That could make a difference..."

"I think I must've tried every shrink in the area and close enough for Ben to drive me to since I got home," Finley muttered. He had stuck a new cigarette between his lips but couldn't manage to light it. "Nothing works. That's why I've still got the pension, well, that and...FUCK!"

He threw the lighter down. Alexander caught it on a bounce and held it steady. He lit the

cigarette without a word. Finley took a drag and released it with a long sigh. He slumped

forward onto the table, his hand sliding into his hair and gripping it hard. His eyes closed.

He smiled bitterly, "I'm awful company right now. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to leave."

Alexander's hand touched his arm carefully and Finley opened his weary eyes to see him looking at him intently. "I'm not going anywhere, Fin."

"You might regret that," Finley murmured.

"It's my choice. Let me decide it, okay?" Alexander told him. "No more of it."

"Okay," Finley agreed, taking another slow drag.

"Have you eaten anything today?" Alexander asked after a moment's pause.

Finley shook his head. "I'm...not sure I can."

"Will you try?" Alexander pressed gently.

Finley flicked some ashes into the ashtray. "I'll try."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Finley smiled just slightly.

Alexander chanced putting his arms about him. Finley didn't flinch and reached up to put his free hand on top of the comforting arms. "Thank you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

**Author's Note: Thanks as always to Mandi for beta'ing. More characters are introduced here, including some OCs. The connections to LotR will come into play in more ways later, I promise!**

Chapter 3

Finley shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and looked shyly up at Alexander. Alexander smiled brilliantly at him, casually slipping an arm around his shoulders. "Stop worrying."

"I can't help it," Finley muttered, wishing for a smoke. He'd left his in Alexander's car though...

"They're only my parents, Fin," Alexander chuckled. "They don't bite, I promise, they've just been wondering where I've been these past months."

"Right..." Finley said. "And Ben is just my big brother. You weren't nervous about meeting him at all."

Alexander chuckled and took Finley's hand to keep him from fidgeting with his shaggy hair. "Your brother knows how to kill a man with little more than a flick of his wrist and is very protective of you."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Finley responded dryly.

He looked dubiously at the house as they walked to the front door. Alexander's parents, Alan and Gail, were both from old money and the success of both their families was obvious in their house.

Finley had thought his uncle Irving was wealthy. He had never been anything but kind to his deceased sister's offspring and, in truth, had been helping Finley stretch his pension so he could live comfortably. But his work and his own family took up most of his time and it didn't help that he lived in another country.

Uncle Irving's house was very comfortable but it was nothing like Alexander's parents' and Finley hadn't even been inside yet. He knew, too, that this was just one of their houses. Uncle Irving owned a lovely cottage, a cottage that was nicer than the house he had grown up in, but Finley knew it there was little comparison between the two families.

"I should have worn something nicer," Finley muttered.

Alexander laughed, "Fin, you're probably more dressed up than my father will be. It's just my family. I don't go to any official functions they put appearances into. I haven't since I was a teenager and could let my brother take over those responsibilities. He had a taste for them at least. I never had. In a few visits my father will be wearing his housecoat around you, don't worry so much."

Finley still fidgeted with the black button down shirt he had on. It was the only clothing he owned that was slightly dressy. He normally wore it to funerals.

Alexander recaptured his hand. "Really, Fin, it's going to be my parents and my little sister, my brother is away on business. Evan, Eve and Annie will be joining us for dinner but they'll have been in the stables most of the night so they won't be nearly as well dressed as you are."

"Stables? You have stables here?" Finley looked shocked. The place was that big?

Alexander smothered a chuckle to spare Finley's feelings. The front door flew open, giving him no chance to reply as he was crushed in a hug.

"Hi dad," he wheezed.

Alan Schraeder was a very solid man. He could, when it came down to it, probably squeeze the air out of Ben with one of his bear hugs. Finley refused to let himself step back when Alan released his son and looked at him but he couldn't help the rigidness of his posture.

"So you're the one our Sasha has been so taken with," Alan greeted, his eyes smiling as he thrust his hand forward. Finley took it hesitantly. "Fin, right?"

"Yes, sir," Finley replied, looking distinctly uncomfortable as he shook Alan's hand. Alexander was very glad that he had warned his father Finley could be a bit awkward. Alan could be a bit too... enthusiastic for some people.

"Alan, you have forgotten you are the size of the door again," a remarkably patient voice

remarked from behind.

Alan chuckled and stepped to the side. Finley could see immediately where Alexander got his thin build from.

"Hello, Sasha," Gail greeted, her son kissing her on the cheek before she looked at Finley and extended her hand. "Welcome to our home, Finley. I would say we have heard a lot about you but Alexander has been remarkably tight lipped. We are all very curious."

"In other words, don't let Izzie corner you," Alan told him with a chuckle.

"We're eating on the back porch," Gail told them, pointedly ignoring her husband, taking his arm, stepping aside and gesturing for them to enter. "Come on through."

"We've even managed to drag Evan away from the horses," Alan commented. "That is always an occasion."

Finley did not stare open mouthed about him but it was a struggle not to, the inside of the house was more impressive than the outside. He couldn't imagine anyone actually living in such a place.

"The front rooms are mostly for show," Gail commented, catching the hint of surprise on his face. She gestured about airily. "They are mostly used for entertaining. I certainly do not mind the style or the luxury but Alan, well..."

"You knew I was eccentric when you married me, dear," Alan teased. "And we have plenty of luxury everywhere else it's just comfortable luxury instead of showy luxury."

Finley hadn't realized there was a difference. Alexander found and squeezed his hand. Finley looked at him to see him smiling broadly. Alexander winked at him and smothered a laugh.

At least he didn't find this at all unusual...

Finley was relieved when the conversation stayed light for most of the meal. Alan and Evan, a very fit, very blond and very rugged looking young man, were engrossed in a conversation concerning a mare Evan had recently acquired for Alan's impressive stables which were not, Finley gathered, located at the house, for the most part.

Alan was a superb businessman, or, at least, that was what Alexander had implied, Finley

wouldn't know, but his real passion, it seemed, was horses and, by them alone, he did quite well. Evan was in charge of all his interests concerning the animals which was a most trusted position.

Eve and Gail were also talking horses. Eve rode competitively, Gail was her main sponsor. Gail did not know as much about horses as her husband but she knew quite a bit. Both Eve and Evan knew more than both. Finley got the feeling the two siblings cared little for much else.

Annie, or more formally, Annabella, had cheerfully noted at the start of all the horse talk that she knew just enough about horses to be able to get by sleeping with an equestrian. Eve had snorted into her wine at the comment and Annie had smiled prettily in return.

She and Alexander spent most of the dinner discussing the work of an author Finley happened to enjoy. He stayed very quiet but let himself be drawn into their conversation a few times so he wasn't being completely silent. He didn't want to be rude, after all.

Isabel, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem being silent and spending most of the meal staring at him as if he were a particularly complex picture. Alexander noticed, whether by Finley's discomfort or Isabel simply being blatant he didn't know. His sister ignored his glares completely.

"So, Finley," Isabel began when they were half way through dessert. "Alexander has told us nearly nothing about you and I, for one, am insatiably curious."

Finley blinked at her and put his spoon down, she had caught him in mid mouthful, unsure of what he was supposed to say to that.

"What do you do all day?" Isabel inquired, pointedly ignoring Alexander's glare and toying with her wine glass.

Finley swallowed, all too aware he now had everyone's attention even though the rest of them were being polite and trying to hide it. "Read, mostly."

Isabel raised an eyebrow. "Really? Doesn't it get boring, after awhile?"

"Not particularly," Finley answered. "I've had enough excitement for one lifetime anyway."

"I can't imagine that," Isabel commented. "Alex said you were in the army."

"I was," Finley replied.

"And?" Isabel questioned. "You don't look the type, if you don't mind me saying. Why did you join?"

Finley shrugged, "I was young, I had my diploma. It seemed like the best option at the time."

"So, how long were you enlisted for?" Isabel asked.

"About eight years." Finley's stomach felt tight suddenly.

"And after you just...quit?" Isabel continued.

"You don't just quit the army," Alan commented mildly. "You qualify for a discharge or you don't re-enlist."

Finley glanced briefly at Alan, remembering that he had done a stint in the army after being drafted, refusing to use his parents' money or power to get him out of it. Isabel raised her wineglass in his direction in vague acknowledgment.

"So, which was it?" she pressed.

"Honourable discharge," Finley replied. He wanted a smoke.

"Because..." Isabel prompted.

"More importantly," Evan interrupted suddenly, surprising everyone and beating Alexander to it. "Did they put you on a horse in any of that time?"

Finley laughed, relieved, a bit surprised at the rescue though it looked like Alexander was ready to take his sister to task. "I can't say they did. I have been on a horse, briefly, while visiting my uncle when I was...oh, ten years old I'd say."

Eve looked absolutely horrified. Evan looked thoughtful and swallowed a last mouthful of dessert before rising. "Well then, let's introduce you to one of the gentler mounts and get you started."

"Right now," Finley said, dumbstruck.

"That grey bay has a even temperment," Eve offered, rising, Annie with her. "If you'll excuse us."

"Of course," Gail told them. Alan waved his hand in agreement, his mouth full of dessert still.

Alexander turned and smiled at Finley. "I'll catch up in a minute."

The look he gave his sister spoke volumes and Finley followed along for lack of a better idea of what to do. There was a well-lit path and as soon as they were on it Annie pulled out a cigarette and offered Finley one. He smiled somewhat shyly and took it with a thank you.

"No problem," Annie told him, blowing out smoke. "Uncle Alan and Aunt Gail don't like the smell much so I don't light up around them."

"Or the horses," Eve put in.

"Right," Annie smiled at him and nodded her head in the siblings direction. "They're touchy."

In unison, the siblings snorted. Annie laughed aloud. Finley smiled a bit.

While the siblings entered the stables, discussing which horse to "introduce" Finley to, he and Annie stayed outside to finish their cigarettes. Annie was studying him too, Finley knew, but she did it much less obtrusively than Isabel.

"It's been awhile since Sasha has brought anyone home to meet the family," Annie commented. "Of course, he hasn't been home much, period. I'm glad he's sticking around for a while."

"Yeah, he told me it's been a couple years since he's been back," Finley said.

Annie nodded, "Wears him out, after awhile, seeing people dying like that, only being able to do so much to help and then..."

She shrugged, "I'm not sure he'll go back."

"We haven't really talked about it," Finley admitted. "But he has talked about setting up his own clinic here."

Annie took a drag as she nodded, "Yeah, he's done that before but, well, Doctors Without Borders always seems to get him back. It's different, this time, I think."

Finley looked at her carefully and she looked back, her dark blue eyes piercing but surprisingly gentle. Then she winked at him, stubbed her cigarette out and tossed her long dark hair over her shoulders with a flick of her head. "Come on, let's go see if those two have picked out a horse yet. Honestly, the way they go on you would think they were discussing a pair of shoes!"

"He's a natural," Evan commented, watching as his sister, on a horse herself, gave Finley a few pointers. "Sits in the saddle like he was born in it."

Alexander regarded his long time friend carefully. "That's high praise, coming from you."

"S'only the truth," Evan countered.

"I'm not disputing it," Alexander replied.

"I noticed Izzie isn't around today," Evan observed after a moment or two.

Alexander frowned. "I asked her not to pry and she did anyway."

"That's just Izzie," Evan commented lightly.

"Izzie needs to learn that you can't do that to some people," Alexander mumbled.

"I'm not disagreeing. We're all just so used to the never-ending curiosity by now..." Evan

grinned a bit, closing one eye against the sun so he could look at Alexander. "She's young still but doesn't think she is. She'll learn."

Alexander snorted, "You have all of, what? Three years on her?"

Evan chuckled but his eyes were distant. "Some things put years on you faster than time will."

"I know," Alexander said softly.

Evan did too. Evan and Eve had been orphaned in their earlier teens and adopted into the

Schraeder family. Their parents had been close friends, jointly holding the position Evan had taken over as well before their death. Eric, fourteen at the time, had been in the car during the accident but, somewhat miraculously, managed to escape with a broken leg, bruises and scrapes. His parents had not been so lucky.

"Fin as well?" Evan asked.

"I'd say more than I," Alexander told him.

"Thought so," Evan nodded. "Izzie'll figure it out one day but she manages to hurt now. Not intentionally, I don't think, but she still does."

"Not Fin," Alexander told him. Evan looked at him carefully. "Not again, I won't let it happen."

Evan smiled slightly, "That's probably a good plan. Get the feeling he doesn't need any more hurt in his life."

Alexander grinned, "Glad you like him, Evan."

It was dark and it was cold. He knew it was but neither seemed to touch him. He seemed to dispel both, though by what force he had no idea.

He knew, though, that he was in this shadow realm for a purpose and a need for haste gripped him.

"Faramir!" he called and then stopped, startled. Who on Ar-Earth was that?

"Faramir!" he called again, feeling a sort of controlled desperation he was all too familiar with well up within him.

He knew then that is he did not reach this Faramir the man would die and, from what he felt, would die unpleasantly as well. The thought made his heart quail in despair. He would not lose him! He could lose no more this day, nor anymore to this foe! There were too many deaths as it was and this man, this Faramir, his heart told him he was made for more than this cold end.

"Faramir!" he called again, his voice sore and hoarse from strain.

Then he saw it. A pale light lingering still. So Faramir fought, he expected no less of him,

having known his kin. If only he had been here sooner!

Faramir fought still but he was so very weak. He had been fighting too long without respite, poor man, and there were no reserves of strength left for him to call upon. This, then, was the last stand he could make and he would not admit it but he knew that without aid he had not quite the power to save him.

Then, as he began to feel stretched thin himself, there was a surge of...of...freshness, rejuvenation and he could not help but grin a moment.

He was before Faramir, though he could not properly see him so much light had returned. He reached out a hand, felt it taken, clasped in return and saw him...

Saw Finley, his Finley but...not, not quite. This was Faramir, his as well, in a way, but in a different way and he was...

"NO!"

The scream, and it was very much a scream, woke Alexander immediately. He blinked confused for a moment. Then he felt the agitated movements beside him.

"No, no, no...don't, don't...no, stop..."

It was Finley, curled into as tight a ball as possible, one hand up to protect his head, the other clutching at his side where Alexander knew a deep jagged scar ran from his stomach to his back.

Damnit, one of those nightmares.

"Fin, Fin, wake up," Alexander murmured, hauling himself up and forcefully turning Finley to his back by his shoulders.

Finley flinched and whimpered. He was cowering away from him in his sleep. Alexander felt like punching someone.

He bit his lip. He knew it was the only way to get Finley out of this kind of nightmare without just letting it run it's course, which could take all damn night, but...God, did he hate doing it!

"FIN!" Alexander shouted, gave his lover a hard shake and then, because that didn't work, slapped across the face with just enough force to shock him awake.

It worked. Finley sat bolt upright and Alexander got out of his way. Alexander wasn't stupid, he knew something of what had been haunting Finley's dreams and he wasn't going to present himself as if he was a target!

Plus, the first thing Finley did was all but fall out of bed and scramble to the washroom.

Alexander followed him quickly, grabbing a blanket to take with him. Finley could very well go into shock after one of those nightmares. His memories tended to hurt him on a fairly regular basis.

Finley was retching violently, his whole body shaking as he crouched miserably over the toilet. Alexander wrapped the blanket around him, felt how cold he was and rubbed his arms for good measure.

Finley didn't speak. Alexander wasn't sure he could get enough sense together to be say anything coherent anyway. Generally, after nightmares that were more memories than dreams, it was better to get him calm, get him settled and then get him talking about something else to distract him. Sometimes he would allow touch, sometimes he wouldn't.

Sometimes he was too out of it to realize he was being touched, Alexander thought, swallowing a lump in his throat.

The retching stopped but Finley remained crouched, shivering and, to Alexander's alarm,

weeping so hard his shoulders were heaving. Alexander wiped his face gently with a damp cloth, speaking quietly to him, trying to get some sign of recognition from him.

It came. It was slow, but it came. Hands gripped his arms with a desperate strength that nearly hurt and Finley made something like a keening noise that could have been his name.

Alexander caught him in his arms and held him tight, letting him cry until he simply couldn't anymore. There was no use trying to stop the tears once they started, Alexander had learned that very quickly.

Finley sagged against him, dazed. Alexander had to half carry him back to the bedroom and he knew that when Finley was alone and one of these dreams hit he often simply spent the rest of the night huddled on the bathroom floor.

Alexander propped Finley up against the side of the bed, cocooned him in another blanket and did something he had never thought he would do, lit a cigarette and all but stuck it between Finley's lips. Alexander figured most of the effect it had was psychological but it worked better than anything else.

Finley started smoking it and became just a little more focussed, enough to begin speaking, or rather babbling, and Alexander suddenly a knew just a little bit more about what had been done to his lover when he had been taken captive on a botched mission before he left the army. It made his stomach turn.

He stopped, voice hoarse, huddled against Alexander. He wouldn't sleep again but he was so out of it he wasn't really awake either. Alexander held him and eventually the shaking stopped but Finley's eyes were glazed and distant.

Alexander's thoughts were in a whirl. When Ben had visited, when he had seen they were

serious, he had told Alexander a few things, knowing Finley wouldn't but...God, he had seen what war did, he had seen what people could do to each other but...It still managed to shake him when he realized just how much pain could be intentionally inflicted.

"You...You should...go back to bed," Finley whispered, his head tucked under Alexander's chin, fingers gripping the blankets Alexander had tucked around them so hard his knuckles were turning white. "I've done this alone before. You don't need to...You shouldn't have to wake up just because I'm..."

"Fin, it's okay," Alexander told him gently. "You shouldn't have had to deal with this alone before. You don't have to now. I'm here."

"I'm sorry," Finley murmured, curling tighter into himself.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Alexander said firmly. "Nothing at all. You can't help this, okay? We'll get through it."

He felt Finley's small nod, felt the shaky exhale against his skin. "Okay."

Alexander woke with a start and looked, immediately, to Finley, ready to wake him, ready to comfort him...

Only Finley was sleeping peacefully, or peacefully enough. A rare thing and Alexander was not about to disturb him when he was actually getting some rest.

He ran a hand through his hair wondering what the hell was going on. He had been having weird dreams constantly for a week and he knew they were all related somehow. Only once had there been a repeat, that first one, but he remembered them as clearly as if they were memories, not dreams.

And they involved Finley, somehow, which scared him because...well, the last thing Finley needed was more dreams troubling him. No, he needed to figure this out in a way that wouldn't involve Finley.

He looked at his lover, leaned over and, very gently, brushed a few stray strands of hair off his forehead. Finley murmured in his sleep, turning his head into the touch. Alexander smiled softly.

They had only been going out a few months and he had never said it but he knew, beyond a doubt, that it was true. He loved this man.

He didn't want to scare Finley away though and since the damn dreams had started he'd been, well, more distracted than usual. He didn't want Finley picking up on that, he didn't want him to worry.

No, he'd deal with this on his own.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

**Author's Note: Thanks to Mandi, as always.**

Chapter 4

Finley looked up from the letter when his apartment door opened. He smiled at Alexander but his face dropped a bit when Alexander's smile was short and distracted.

"What's wrong?" Finley asked.

"Nothing," Alexander told him, crossing the small room to kiss him and take a seat next to him on the couch. Finley's head found his shoulder and Alexander smiled, truly, and put an arm around him. "What's all this?"

"My uncle's version of care package," Finley replied, he held up a stack of papers before setting them aside. "Twelve pages this time, he's outdone himself."

Alexander laughed, "He certainly has a lot to say."

"He's a politician," Finley retorted. "A senator, he can be as long winded as he likes, I suppose."

Alexander plucked a soft cover book out of the full box and scanned the back. "He sends you books."

"And cigarettes by the carton, though those are added passed the border," Finley smiled fondly. "He says they're all second hand, the books, that is, that he buys them, reads them and then sends them to me but I don't always believe him."

Alexander chuckled, "I'm not sure what he would do with a history textbook that looks quite new and is about the wrong country."

"He spoils me a bit," Finley said quietly, feeling strangely self-conscious.

His uncle was very careful about his pride. Other than the care packages, as he called them, he did help Finley out financially but he did so very subtly. He had helped Finley invest what little money he had inherited from his father and, when he did, bumped the total up a little with a deposit of his own.

Irving also made sure his bank account never sagged too much. Finley was very careful with his money but there was never a lot of it, especially since he had an apartment that wasn't bad. Irving did what he could for his nephew, he always had.

It meant Finley never got a check in the mail, just that his uncle watched his bank account nearly as closely as he did and augmented it when Finley started running low. Irving had offered to do more before, and had paid for therapists that the army wouldn't cover, but...there was only so much charity Finley was willing to take and sitting, poking through the books with Alexander, he was very glad that a check had not accompanied the care package.

"Three history textbooks," Alexander murmured. Finley nodded, picking one of them up. How to suggest it without offense... "Fin, you know, my parents fund quite a few scholarships. I'm sure you would qualify for at least one."

Finley smiled thinly. "My uncle paid for me to take a course last year. I failed."

"What? Why?" Alexander asked, surprised.

"I missed too many classes. I couldn't..." Finley ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't get to the lectures and I couldn't get through them. I ended up missing the exam because of a headache and got so stressed about the rewrite I made myself sick then flunked it."

Finley sighed. "I lose jobs because I have to call in sick too much and I can't...dealing with people is hard sometimes. Most of the time people ask things that bother me and they're only trying to be friendly I just can't..."

Alexander slipped an arm around his waist. "I just don't know how to deal with them when people start asking me things, normal things that I just don't have normal answers for. It hurts...I can't believe sometimes how much I've told you. I don't know why I have. That first night...normally if someone asked about my...my scars I would've kicked them out but you were different for some reason."

"I was jealous when I saw you and Ben shopping that morning," Alexander confessed.

"What?" Finley asked.

"I didn't know he was your brother and I was jealous," Alexander repeated, coaxing a smile out of his lover. "When I found out he was...Well, you know I went back to the club and waited for you to show up again."

"Why?" Finley questioned. "Why did you?"

Alexander shrugged. "I don't know. I just knew I wanted to see you again. I didn't want just a one night stand with you. I would have given you my number in the store if I hadn't thought it would scare you off. Plus, Ben can be rather intimidating."

"I'd tell him you said that but it'd only inflate his ego more!" Finley laughed. "It's weird though, don't you think?"

"I guess, I haven't really thought about it," Alexander told him, he tilted his head down and brushed his lips against Finley's. "It hasn't seemed important to me."

"I guess," Finley smiled as Alexander's hands moved up his back and his lips found his again. "There are better things to think about."

* * *

Finley heard the pounding at his door but made no move to answer it. Anyone who needed to get in had a key and he wasn't about to attempt moving. His name was called a few times but the noise only served to make him curl tighter into a ball, pressing his knuckles hard against his temples.

Eventually the knocking stopped. Finley didn't move. He didn't think. He just lay there

breathing.

"Finley," a quiet voice said right next to him as a hand fell onto his shoulder.

Finley jerked away in surprise and fear, giving a soft cry. Pain shot through his skull and his vision swam then blackened.

He came to with a soft groan only a moment later. Someone was slapping his face gently and calling his name.

"Stop...stop..." he croaked.

He opened his eyes just a moment. The light was on. He managed to focus on...Evan? before screwing his eyes shut tightly.

A strong arm supported him across his back and hauled him into a seated position. Finley moaned at the unwanted movement and tried, unsuccessfully, to roll away so he could curl up again.

"Come on," Evan was saying. "I'll get you to the hospital."

"No, no," Finley muttered. "No need."

"You just passed out!" Evan exclaimed.

"Headache," Finley murmured by way of explanation. "Nothing they can do. I have medication. I just...just need to lie down..."

Evan made a grunting sort of noise. "Have you taken that medication?"

"Yeah, this morning," Finley replied quietly.

"It's after five," Evan told him quietly.

"Oh." Finley opened one eye and squinted at Evan, really registering his presence. "Why...why are you here?"

"Found Alex's pager. It must've fallen off his belt," Evan explained. He stood and drew the curtains. It had been raining and gloomy when Finley first lay down but the sun had finally shown itself. He turned off the lamp, letting shadows dominate the room and easing the strain for Finley.

"H-How'd you get in?" Finley wondered aloud.

"Picked the lock," Evan told him. "Annie taught me."

"Not comforting," Finley murmured.

Evan cracked a small smile that faded as Finley groaned again. Alexander had mentioned

something about headaches in passing when he called to say he and Finley were not coming out to the stables one day. "How often can you have that medication?"

"Six hours," Finley replied.

"When did you have it last?" Evan questioned gently.

"Nine...I think..." Finley told him. "B-blue bottle of pills."

Evan disappeared for a few moments. Finley shivered. He hated the headaches. They came every other week or so and floored him completely.

The pain was debilitating. It was one of the reasons Finley couldn't hold a job long. If it was bad enough a headache could lay him up for days. Worst of all, they didn't know if the headaches were psychological or a result of the physical trauma he had sustained. Either could have done it and the headaches had never gone away.

"These?"

Finley opened his eyes enough to see it was. "Yeah."

He swallowed one without water and let his head sink back down onto the pillow. He closed his eyes against the blurring room, hearing vague mumbling words that were not, as far as he could tell, directed at him and letting himself drift as the pain eased.

The pain killers were strong. They had to be and they made his body feel heavy, weighted down so movement was difficult even when he wanted to move.

He heard two voices and he tried to concentrate but couldn't manage it. His thoughts were too hazy. Cool, slim hands touched his forehead briefly and a cold cloth was laid over his eyes.

There was more talking. He couldn't make out the words. They faded and, finally, he slept.

* * *

"How often does this happen?" Annie asked, worriedly, as Alexander bent over his sleeping lover. Finley stirred ever so slightly at his touch.

"Every other week or so," Alexander told her, quietly. He removed the cloth, it needed to be replaced again, and straightened. "Thanks for staying with him."

"Evan was worried. He would've stayed if he could have," Annie shrugged. "We, Eve, Evan and I, like him. Isabel thinks he's a gold digger."

Alexander snorted, "So she told me at length."

"Isabel can be a bit...intense with her theories," Annie allowed. "She means well and she'll grow up someday. You aren't always sensible either, you know."

"Don't remind me," Alexander sighed. "Hal called, they want me to go back."

"Are you going to go?" Annie asked.

"No. I came home because I'd burned out. I can't do it again, not yet. It's selfish but..."

Alexander shrugged. "It's completely different practising here. You're not watching everyone die by inches here."

"I think you deserve to be a little selfish, if that's what you're calling it. How many years have you been doing this? Give yourself a chance to find a little happiness," Annie told him. "You're off to a good start."

"I love him," Alexander said quietly.

"I know, dummy," Annie smiled. "Don't fuck it up. I like him a lot and I'll have to beat you up if you do."

Alexander chuckled. "Eve is lucky to have you, cuz."

"Damn right," Annie replied, she kissed him on the cheek and grabbed her purse. "You take good care of him. I'm going home to call Eve and tell her why I missed her call last night."

Alexander smiled briefly at her before going to sit beside Finley who was beginning to wake. He pushed Finley's dark hair back from his face.

Disoriented grey eyes opened and blinked at him in confusion. "...alex?..."

"Hey you," Alexander greeted very softly. He heard the door closing behind Annie as she let herself out of the apartment. "Feeling any better?"

Finley blinked again, and attempted to sit up. Alexander stopped him. "What time is it?"

"About noon," Alexander told him.

Finley frowned. "Evan? I think it was Evan, said five..."

"That was yesterday, Fin," Alexander informed him gently.

"Oh," Finley murmured. "I lost a day."

"You lost a day," Alexander echoed. "Evan couldn't stay long, he had a meeting to attend so he called Annie. She stayed with you last night but you were pretty out of it."

"Oh," Finley blinked. His eyes focussed a bit more. "I think I paged you."

"You did, my pager fell off when I was at my parents picking something up," Alexander

explained. "It got caught when I bumped into a door. Evan found it and came to check on you."

"He picked the lock," Finley said, looking surprised. "Annie taught him?"

Alexander chuckled. "My cousin is a woman of many talents."

"Mm," Finley struggled to sit up again. Alexander sighed and helped him to lean against the wall. Finley pushed the heel of his palm to his forehead. The pain wasn't bad anymore, just a dull ache.

"Sorry I wasn't here," Alexander said quietly.

"S'okay," Finley replied. "Dealt with them alone before."

Alexander snorted but didn't comment otherwise on that. Finley let his hand drop from

his head. "Where were you anyway?"

"A couple friends of mine, Hal and Marie, were passing through," Alexander told him. "It was late by the time I got home and I figured you would already be sleeping."

"I don't mind," Finley said, his tone purposely light, "if you join me while I am."

Alexander grinned widely, "I'll remember that."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

**Author's Notes: Wow! Thanks to everyone who reviewed and, as always, Mandi for being the world's awesomest beta!**

**To those wondering: There are some OCs in this story, Isabel is one of them. Alan and Gail actually have three children, Alexander being the oldest. The other two are OCs. Remember, Arathorn died young, if he hadn't, as Alan doesn't, it's likely they would have had more children. **

**If anyone would like me to post a list of who characters are (and how they're related) let me know and I'll post it in an author's note. **

**Also, after next Monday I'll be going to updates hopefully every other week because school will have started up again for me. Anyone waiting for In Dreams, it's coming, I promise, I'm just not getting along well with the chapter I'm writing right now. Stupid thing. **

**Oh, and, just for the helluva it, I'll remind everyone that quite often it takes things getting worse for them to get better. ;-)**

**Chapter 5**

"The subscriber you have reached, _Alexander Schraeder_, is not available. At the tone, please record a short message."

"Hi, Alex. It's me, uh, Fin, I just... I just wanted to talk to you and wondered... well, if... if you were coming over tonight or you wanted me to come over or... or something. I haven't seen you or heard from you in, well, awhile so... Yeah, just let me know, okay? Okay, bye."

Finley could feel his face burning red as he hung up the phone. At least no one was around to see him make a fool of himself.

Four days. He hadn't heard from Alexander in four days and... well, he missed him.

Finley rubbed his arm absently and wandered out onto the little balcony to have a smoke. He tried not to smoke inside except when he, well, needed to for whatever reason. He knew Alexander didn't like it. He never said anything but... Finley knew it bothered Ben how much he smoked too. He wasn't quitting, he didn't think he could manage that, but he was trying to cut back.

It was getting cold out. Finley shivered and hunched down in the plastic chair. He took a drag and watched the smoke curl and disappear before flicking some ashes off the side of the balcony.

He didn't get it. They had been spending nearly all their time together. Alexander had been coming over just to sleep until a few days before his last headache.

Fuck, fuck. He was being ridiculous.

He ran his hands through his hair and took another drag. He went back inside, picked up the phone and... remembered that Ben was away for a month on a training exercise.

For a moment he just stood there looking at the phone. Then he grabbed his coat and walked out the door.

He only realized when he was standing in the parking lot of the club that he knew where he was going. He stood there for a few moments, wondering why he was there and finishing his third cigarette. He didn't go near the entrance, just... stood and watched for awhile.

"Hey there."

Finley jumped at the voice and whirled. A blond, brown eyed guy smiled at him. "You going to go in so I can ask you to dance?"

"No," Finley said flatly. He dropped the cigarette, crushing it with his heel and shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

"Come on, the night is young," the guy encouraged.

Finley shook his head. "I was waiting for someone, he didn't show up. Sorry."

"Well I can keep you company," the guy offered, smiling again. "Sure you don't want that dance?"

Finley nodded, "Sorry."

"All right, I'll take a raincheck then," the guy flashed him one last grin and turned, strolling toward the entrance.

Finley realized his hands were shaking in his pockets. He didn't run back home but the walk was very brisk.

Finley was pacing, still wound up, when a knock at his door made him jump. He ran a shaky hand through his hair and jumped, turning on the lights as he went to peer through the peephole.

"Helllloooooo...." Annie was impossibly trying to peer through the peephole back at him so all he saw was her giant eyeball.

He opened the door a crack and looked at her, bewildered, "Annie? What are you doing here?"

"Alex is away. Eve is on circuit and I'm not joining her for weeks. I'm bored and lonely and I thought you could use the company. Come on, I brought wine," Annie told him.

Finley opened the door hastily to let her in, still not entirely sure why she was there. Annie waltzed in, one very full cloth bag daggling from her arm. Finley raised an eyebrow as she plunked the bags down on his coffee table.

"Where are your glasses?" She asked, pulling out a dark bottle. "I hope you like red, it's the best I could sneak away with."

"I don't have any wine glasses," Finley said, going into his little kitchen anyway.

"That's fine. Bring three!" Annie called. Finley could hear the rustling of the bag being opened and emptied.

"Three?" Finley asked, grabbing two dollar store glasses and a mug.

There was an odd knock at the door and Annie went to get it. Finley saw Evan, or rather, saw the bags Evan was carrying and heard him muttering. "You would leave the bulk of the job to me and not come back for a second load!"

"You would assume I wasn't going to come back and try to carry everything yourself, you silly ass," Annie retorted, taking a few bags from him.

"You're the one who brought enough food to feed a small army," Evan grumbled. He looked up and quirked a small smile. "Hello Fin."

"Hi, Evan," Finley returned a bit bewildered. "Um...What's going on?"

"She," Evan said, pointing at Annie who stuck her tongue out in return, "decided that since Alexander won't be back until Sunday and she's not leaving until Thursday she should come and gorge herself on food and wine with you and that I should carry her bags for her."

"Oh, hush, you were the one who decided we had best raid uncle's pantry since I had already raided his wine cellar," Annie retorted. "The cook gave you more treats than he gave me, I might add."

"Harry likes me better," Evan replied smugly. "But he did pack in all the fancy junk you were blathering about."

"If it isn't a delicacy I'm not going to eat it tonight," Annie said with something of a snooty sniff.

"Good, Fin, that means we have the brownies all to ourselves. Pour the wine, Annie dear," Evan instructed, making himself comfortable on the floor beside the table. Finley hesitated, still a bit unsure, then tossed him a ragged pillow from the small couch.

"Brownies?" Annie repeated, pouring Evan a glass of the wine.

"Yes, but I thought you weren't going to..."

"Harry's brownies are a delicacy," Annie replied as she filled the mug Finley held.

"Fine, fine," Evan muttered, taking a great gulp of his wine. He raised his glass. "Good choice."

"I do know my wine, dear Evan," Annie raised an eyebrow and took a sip herself. "Breeding has to be good for something."

Evan snorted and picked up a small, flaky, circular pastry that Annie had brought out. "This isn't real food."

"No. Isn't it wonderful?" Annie grinned at Finley. "He'll want onion rings later. He always does. Is there a place around here?"

"Just down the street," Finley told her, gingerly biting into one of the pastry things Annie had brought. It was delicious. He took another.

Annie smiled. She grabbed a brownie and crammed half of it into her mouth.

"So much for breeding," Evan laughed. "High society my ass."

"Uncle Alan is only considered high society because he has more money and power than the Queen of England," Annie said with a sniff.

"And I'm sure he adores that comparison," Evan put in.

Annie glared. "Otherwise he's simply weird. Auntie Gail is the reason he isn't simply viewed as an eccentric kook with an unfair share of business sense. She knows how to manipulate appearances for parties and the like. I take after Uncle Alan and heaven knows my partner only encourages it. Mucking about stables and being blatantly in a relationship with another woman makes me... wonderfully free of all that mess my parents have to deal with."

"An advantage, in my humble opinion," Evan wrinkled his nose then spit out something onto his napkin. "Blech. Coconut."

He grinned at Finley then. "I have never fit, nor wanted to fit, into that crowd. Let them handle the gossip and I will handle the horses. That's probably why I scare away all the society ladies this one tries to set me up with."

"You're the one who always complains that you're still single," Annie pointed out. "I just introduce you to girls you don't already know from the world of horses."

"Well I haven't met the right one yet," Evan grumbled.

Annie smiled softly, lifting large, dark, blue eyes to look at Finley from under long lashes. "Evan is a closet romantic, the silly cowboy."

"There's no in the closet about it. I want a wife I love and children I can be ridiculously proud of," Evan said, looking very sad for a moment. "And who can ride a horse, of course."

"Of course," Finley summoned a small smile and Annie laughed slightly.

"Now, I have never introduced you to someone who can't ride a horse," Annie waggled her finger at him and finished her first glass of wine. She poured herself a new one and filled up Evan's glass as well. Finley's hadn't been touched past a swallow. "That you cannot blame on me."

Evan snorted. Annie giggled. Finley relaxed just a bit and took another sip of wine.

* * *

"Oh, I am horribly drunk," Annie giggled, swinging the bottle of wine she was drinking straight from dramatically. 

"Liar," Evan retorted, reclining quite comfortably in the ugly green chair Finley had. "You can hold your drink nearly better than I."

"She has been drinking from the bottle," Finley pointed out.

"Yes, I have been drinking from the bottle," Annie repeated.

"Just because I am more civilized and drink mine from a... mug does not mean you have had more," Evan replied then frowned, glaring at the mug in his hand. "Wasn't this yours, Finley?"

"I don't drink much," Finley commented. He was sprawled on the floor, leaning against the couch. "I can't believe how much we ate."

"Oh this is nothing," Annie waved her hand in dismissal. "You two are lightweights and I know Evan ate before he came so he dropped out early."

"This isn't real food," Evan reminded her. "I eat real food. This was a snack and dessert."

"Several desserts," Annie corrected.

"Fine, several desserts," Evan allowed. He looked in interest at Finley. "So why don't you drink?"

Finley shrugged, "Never much had a taste for it."

"Beer is positively revolting," Annie sniffed. "A good wine I enjoy..."

"You enjoy any wine," Evan cut in.

"Sometimes you can't be choosy but I prefer a good wine," Annie continued. "Or good champagne and all those girlie drinks are enjoyable as well. Now Eve, she can hold her liquor."

"That is an understatement," Evan mumbled.

"Evan is still sore because his little sister can out drink him," Annie giggled. She put the wine bottle down with a loud clank, looking drunkenly fierce. "Twelve tequila shots in a row on her birthday one year and she started drinking after that. If she gets really drunk, she'll throw up, rinse her mouth out and keep on going."

"Eve is a very... competitive person when she's had a few," Evan explained. "Annie gets, as you can see, giggly."

"And Evan is a very fun drunk," Annie smirked. "Do you remember that time in Arizona when you..."

"NO! No! I don't remember it. You don't remember it. No one remembers it and we aren't going to discuss it," Evan replied quickly.

"What?" Finley asked. "Oh come on!"

"No, no, that is a story for another time," Evan waggled his finger at Annie. She bared her teeth and snapped them shut. "I have blackmail on you, missy, and don't you forget it!"

"You're both horrible," Finley told them with a chuckle.

"Thank you!" Annie replied perkily. She took another sling from the wine bottle, put it down, giggled and flopped to one side.

"I think," Evan said with a grin, "it is time for me to drag this one back to her apartment before she passes out on your couch."

"I'm not that drunk!" Annie protested.

Evan called a cab and they all cleaned a bit while waiting for it to arrive. Leftovers tucked safely in Finley's fridge, very few dishes to do, and mostly everything cleaned up, the two departed, mission accomplished.

"Don't you dare try cleaning the rest up," Annie warned him. "I'll be over in the morning to help finish and pick up my car. You sleep well, Fin."

Evan gave his shoulder a squeeze, Annie kissed his cheek. When he went to close the balcony door he heard them arguing affectionately and smiled.

It was past 3 a.m. He fell into bed and, thankfully, did not dream.

* * *

By Monday night Finley was chain smoking from worry. Annie had said Sunday. It was a day later and still not a peep from Alex. 

He stubbed out a cigarette and went to pull out another and... he didn't have anymore. Fuck.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair. He supposed that was actually a good thing. He'd probably get lung cancer by the end of the night if he kept going.

He paced. He tried to distract himself by reading. He sat on the couch and stared at the ceiling until his eyes began to droop.

He jerked awake and unto his feet when the door opened. Alexander looked at him, a bit startled, keys still in his hand.

"Fin?" Alexander asked, his eyes concerned. "You okay?"

Finley nodded numbly. Alexander put his suitcase down and moved quickly to stand in front of his lover. "What's wrong?"

"I..." Finley swallowed. "I missed you, that's all. I didn't... Until Annie told me I didn't realize you had gone away and..."

"What?" Alexander broke in, looking startled. "I thought... I didn't call you?"

Finley shook his head.

"Fuck me," Alexander swore. "Fin, God, Fin, I'm sorry. I thought... It must have slipped my mind."

Finley swallowed and decided he was not going to show how much that hurt him.

"You know there's always one important thing you forget when you travel," Alexander said a bit helplessly. "I'm so sorry I forgot, Fin."

"S'okay," Finley managed a bit woodenly. "I just... Why didn't you call me while you were away?"

"I thought of it," Alexander told him. "I should have. I really should have. I just... The functions I had to attend always went so late and I didn't want to wake you if you were sleeping, I know how little you sleep and... I've never really had anyone to call home to before. I just... I'm sorry. I missed you too."

Alexander hugged him tightly then. For a moment, it felt awkward but Finley gave a sigh of relief and pushed his face gently against Alexander's neck, reminding himself of what the other man smelled like.

"I'm sorry, Fin, really I am," Alexander murmured, fingers twining gently in Finley's dark hair. "Next time you should come with me. I was incredibly bored. Maybe we could have had some fun together."

Finley chuckled nervously, still a bit unsure, just relieved that he didn't have to worry anymore. Alexander drew back a little, keeping one arm around Finley's waist, brushing his hair back with his other hands and looking at him intently.

"Where would you go if you could go anywhere?" he asked.

"Greece," Finley answered instantly. He swallowed. "I... would like to see most of Europe, actually, but Greece, for some reason, the most. I never got to see it. Europe, that is. Well, apart from an airport or two and the inside of my hospital room in Germany."

"We could go, you know," Alexander said suddenly. "We could hop on a plane tonight. I have the money."

"I don't," Finley told him. "And I might never have it and you aren't my sugar daddy."

Alexander laughed and kissed Finley lightly, quickly. His eyes smiled. "One day we'll go."

"Yeah, okay," Finley replied.

"No, I mean it," Alexander told him, suddenly serious, "One day we'll go. We'll see Greece. We'll see Europe, everything you want to. We'll travel, I promise."

Finley looked at Alexander as if he were crazy but... He wasn't. They would. Finley knew it.

"It will be nice to go somewhere where people aren't shooting at me," Finley managed with a shaky smile.

Alexander laughed but there was bitterness in it. "Or dying by inches in front of me. Won't that be something!"

They were suddenly clinging to each other so fiercely and this time it was Alexander resting his forehead against Finley's shoulder. "Africa. We could never help everyone and people kept dying. They keep dying and even when something can be done it isn't too fucking often. You save a few, not even save though, prolong the lives of a few, and handfuls more die around you and you can't save everyone. Children are orphaned and neglected and then they die too and I would spend so much time there I started to get numb to it and that scared the shit out of me."

"So I would come home for a few months and remember how to feel and then I'd go back until I couldn't do it anymore. I can't save the world no matter how much I try. I can't do it anymore. Maybe I'm a coward but I can't," Alexander swallowed. "And this damn trip... My dad is helping to fund the renovations of a hospital and it needed it badly and everyone else who had the same level of status was busy and I'm in the field so... But everyone who finds out where I was wants to talk about it and they talk about it like they know what it was like. They don't. You can't, not unless you're there. And I don't want to talk about it. It's still too close."

"I know, I know," Finley murmured. "I know, Alex. Talking about it hurts and you're not sure it'll ever get easier. Maybe it won't. I don't know. But... At least you tried to help. At least you went and tried to help people. "

Alexander looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Fin, I didn't mean to unload on you."

"S'okay, you do it enough for me. That's part of a relationship, isn't it?" Finley said, hiding how shaken he felt.

"Yeah, you're right," Alexander smiled sadly. "What a pair we make!"

Alexander's fingers tangled in Finley's hair and his silvery eyes peered closely into Finley's grey ones. "I did miss you, Fin, a very great deal."

Alexander kissed him then and Finley let himself forget Alexander hadn't called him at all and how much it hurt not knowing what was going on and that he had arrived a day later than Annie had said he was returning. He didn't want to think about it. He was just glad he was back.

* * *

_Just a question, who thought the guy who tried to pick Finley up was a creep? Because, really, he wasn't, he was a nice guy, I swear!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Character list is at the bottom. This chapter may throw some for a loop. It...well, it takes a rather big jump in time. Somethings may be confusing, they're supposed to be, it's something I'm playing with at the moment. All will be explained, don't worry, just not right now. **

Chapter 6

"You know I like the guy, sunshine," Ben said. "So you don't have to get defensive before you even tell me what's the matter."

Finley sighed, gripping the phone a little harder, taking a drag before answering. "He's just... been acting weird lately."

"Weird as in..." Ben prompted.

"Weird as in not calling or coming over like he used to. Weird as in being busy when I call him. Weird as in disappearing without telling me where he's going, without calling and doing it more than once and we're talking for days at a time. Weird as in being distant when he is with me," Finley told him. "Weird."

"Fin..." Ben began hesitantly.

"I know what that looks like okay?" Finley took a long drag and coughed a bit, feeling it burn his throat. "We never did say we were only dating each other I just assumed..."

"That was the impression I got from you two," Ben broke in.

"I know, I thought so too I just..." Finley paced, smoked, then got tangled in the cord. "Fuck! FUCK!"

"Easy, Finley, easy," Ben soothed, wishing he was there with his brother as Finley coughed harshly again. "How much have you smoked today?"

"Too damn much," Finley muttered. "I don't know what to do, Ben."

"You don't know anything is going on yet," Ben reminded him.

"Do you think it is?" Finley asked.

"Weeeeellll," Ben sighed. "I don't know. I didn't get the impression that Alex would do something like that."

"But that's what it looks like," Finley stubbed out the cigarette and rubbed the bridge of his nose, taking a seat. "Ben... What if he is? What if... What if he's going to break up with me?"

"Come on, Fin, you don't know what's going on. There could be a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this," Ben tried.

"There's nothing I can do if he is, is there? I never understood why he wanted to be with me in the first place," Finley grasped the cord tightly in his hands, winding it around his fingers in agitation. "If he doesn't want me anymore than there's nothing I can do about it."

"Well, that defeatist attitude will get you far," Ben said sharply.

"Fuck you," Finley yelled. "Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!"

Finley had the urge to slam the phone onto the counter and then rip the jack out of the wall. He stared at it for a few seconds, took several shaky breaths and finally put it against his ear.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"Sorry, you seemed like you were getting a bit out of control there," Ben told him, his voice gentle. "Thought I needed to snap you out of it."

"Thanks," Finley repeated. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Ben said. "Listen, Fin, you need to talk to him. You need to find out what's going on. You're going to make yourself sick obsessing about it like this."

"I know," Finley murmured. His hand trembled and he curled it into a fist, attempting to make it stop. "I wasn't always like this."

"I know," Ben soothed. "You weren't and you won't always be, okay? It just takes time, you know that better than I do. You are better than you were when you first came home."

Finley snorted. "That isn't saying much."

"Yes it is," Ben insisted. "Don't sell yourself short. Go talk to him. Don't start obsessing when you don't know what's going on."

"Okay," Finley said very quietly, rubbing a tired hand over his face.

"You promise me you will?" Ben pressed.

"Yes," Finley sighed. "I'll go tomorrow."

"Okay." Ben sounded distinctly relieved. "You want me to come down tonight?"

"You can't come here now, Ben, you know that," Finley told him. "You're not on leave yet."

"I would anyway," Ben replied sincerely.

"I know you would," Finley said, his tone softer. "But you can't. I... You're visiting in two days, it'll be okay."

"You're sure?" Ben asked.

"Yeah," Finley replied.

"Don't you forget I love you, little brother."

"I won't. I love you too, Ben."

* * *

Finley got off the subway early. He could take a bus and arrive within five minutes of Alexander's house but he wanted to walk a bit. He needed the time before he got there. Not to think. He had done enough thinking, too much, the night before when he

should have been sleeping and the morning and afternoon when he paced his apartment, hoping, maybe Alexander would call him, come over, something to shake away the growing unease the built in the pit of Finley's stomach.

No, he needed the time to calm. He needed to have a smoke and not think about it, anything. He needed to keep himself from going to pieces.

It was cloudy. A dull day. He had spent it pacing and staring blankly at the wall. It was nearly dark. There was about half an hour of light left in the day when he found himself standing on his lover's front porch.

There was an extra car in the drive way. He should just go home. But... He couldn't do that.

He refused to let himself shake. He needed to do this. He needed to know where he stood with Alexander and then... well, when he had that answer he could figure out the rest.

He knocked on the door.

He didn't fully understand the dread that was building up inside him but he was starting to feel a bit ill because of it. He could feel his heart in his throat. Could feel his pulse speed up when he heard footsteps and skip a beat when the door opened and he saw Alexander's face.

It fell, upon seeing him and Finley managed, just, to keep himself from feeling crushed.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice a bit faint. He cleared his throat.

"Hey," Alexander returned, not opening the door any more. "What are you doing here?"

Alexander was distracted. He didn't notice the dark rings under Finley's eyes or the pallor of his face. His head was half inside still.

"Listen," Finley was saying. "We need to talk. I don't understand what's been happening for the past couple of weeks..."

"I have company," Alexander broke in, looking vaguely at Finley without seeing him. "We'll talk later. I'll call you."

Finley didn't know what to say. His mouth hung open just slightly and he faintly wondered how he was still standing. Alexander didn't look at him again and he closed the door.

It took the sound of it shutting to wake Finley up to what was in front of him. A closed door.

"Right," Finley mumbled. His gestured vaguely away, eyes a bit unfocused. "Right. I understand now. I'll... I'll just go."

He managed to get down the driveway and a block away before his legs stopped and he sat on the curb, smoking a cigarette, his hands shaking so badly it had taken him minutes to light it. He didn't cry. He didn't feel.

He stood up and started walking again. He just needed to go. Back to the apartment. Then... then... something. He wasn't sure what, just something.

He coughed as the cigarette went down the filter and he didn't notice. He burned his fingers a bit and managed to light another. He kept walking, passing the bus stop.

It started to rain. He lit another cigarette.

The streets were nearly empty. There was no one to pay attention to him. Better that way, he thought, wondering if a van would pull up and take him away in a straitjacket.

He smoked. He walked. It rained.

* * *

At first Ben thought Finley had to be at Alexander's house. He had a key, he could let himself in, after all, even if it was unusual for Finley to not be there to greet him but he took it was a good sign, hoping his brother and Alexander had sorted out whatever had worried Finley so much. He certainly didn't begrudge his little brother what happiness he could find.

He was surprised to see the balcony door open. Finley was never careless about those things but maybe Alexander had forgotten or maybe Finley had burned something and was trying to get the smell out of the house.

When he went to close it and saw his little brother sprawled on the folding chair, eyes closed, face deathly pale, his blood froze. He didn't remember moving he just was at Finley's side, shaking him gently, calling his name in nearly a blind panic.

Finley gave a moan and his head lolled to the side. Ben's heart started working again. He spotted the packs of cigarettes, two of them, a few soggy ones still remaining in the second and one that looked like it had fallen from Finley's fingers.

"Fin, brother, come on, wake up Finley," Ben coaxed, slapping his face lightly. Fin moaned again. "Fin, wake up for me, Fin."

Grey eyes blinked open then quickly shut again. Finley groaned and croaked, "Bright..."

Then he started hacking. Ben had had enough. He scooped his little brother into his arms, shit, he had lost weight, what the fuck was going on?, and carried him inside.

Finley hung limply in his arms. The position wasn't comfortable, Ben hadn't wasted time with that he just wanted to get Finley inside and warmed up because his skin felt ice cold, but Finley was so stiff and cold he didn't notice the discomfort of having his arms at awkward angles even as his head tucked instinctively against Ben's shoulder.

Ben set him down on the bed, stripping him of his still damp clothing and pulling sweat pants over his hips, and a t-shirt over his head. He could count his brother's ribs. Fuck.

He bundled him up in a blanket and picked him up again. Finley was just barely aware, and only that because Ben wouldn't let him fall asleep again. He was worried about the tinge he saw in Finley's fingers and the rattle in his breathing. At least Finley wouldn't be able to protest much when they pulled into the ER.

* * *

"So, I managed to convince the doctors you were just absent-minded, now it's your turn to convince me I shouldn't be hauling you to a therapist next!" Ben said, his fingers stroking lightly over Finley's arm.

He felt his little brother flinch slightly against him. "Sorry."

"Talk to me, Fin," Ben told him.

Finley sighed, too tired to move away to look his brother in the eyes even. He was tucked against Ben, who was half sitting up against the headboard, letting Finley use his chest as a pillow. Finley was curled on his side against the safe bulk of his big brother, who had one arm against his back, the other crossed over his chest, fingers soothingly moving up and down his arm.

Ben had hauled the tv into the bedroom for the night and they were watching some movie. Finley didn't know what it was. He didn't care.

Tomorrow Ben was taking him to his home, a bungalow he shared with two other army bachelors off base. It could be a rather wild place but they knew Finley, and they liked him and Ben, at least, knew they would be very welcoming to his ill little brother.

That had been decided when Finley refused to let Ben call Alexander when they had gotten back from the hospital. He hadn't even plugged his phone back in. The only reason they hadn't left that night was because Ben wasn't going anywhere until Finley had had a chance to rest properly.

"I didn't mean to get sick," Finley told his brother.

"I should hope not," Ben muttered.

"I... just... I don't know what I was thinking," Finley admitted. "I wasn't thinking."

"That isn't particularly comforting, Fin," Ben told him. "You scared the shit out of me. Why weren't you thinking?"

Finley shrugged and seemed to wilt a little more against his brother.

Ben frowned. "I need to know if this is going to happen again, Fin. I need to know you won't stop thinking again. You sat out all night in the rain. You've got pneumonia. You haven't been this thin since you first came home and this morning I thought..."

Ben broke off and looked away. Finley's eyes crept up to his shuttered face. "I saw you sitting there and you were so still... It made me think of father."

"Ben, I would never do that," Finley told him seriously. "Never, okay? I told you before, I'm not looking to die. I don't want to die."

"Good," Ben sighed and hugged him tighter. Finley squeezed back as well as he was able, closing his eyes, feeling safe. "Now talk to me, sunshine, please."

Finley bit his lip. "I... I don't think Alex and I... He... We're not..."

"Ah, shit, Fin," Ben mumbled. "Is that what happened?"

Finley nodded slowly. Ben swore. "I didn't see that coming."

"I thought... we never said it or anything but I thought..." Finley bit his lip and his chin trembled.

"You thought?" Ben prompted.

"I thought, maybe, he loved me," Finley was silent a moment then he laughed bitterly. "Ridiculous, I know. I'm such a fucking fool."

"No, no you're not Fin," Ben told him firmly. "Don't ever think so, not about this."

"I should have known better," Finley went out, as if Ben hadn't spoken. "Who the hell would want to love me?"

"I love you," Ben said quietly.

Finley looked at him, grey eyes suddenly seeming huge. The faintest of smiles touched his lips. "Yeah, you do."

"Don't you forget it, little brother." Ben's eyes softened. His fingers gently brushed over Finley's cheek. There would be more time to talk later, he wasn't planning on letting his little brother out of his sight for a few days.

"You need to get some rest," Ben told him and Finley's eyes were drooping as it was. "Sleep. I'll wake you if you start to dream."

Finley yawned, hesitated and then rested his head against his brother with a quiet sigh. Ben remained awake, trying to keep his brother from dreaming and debating just what would be adequate punishment for the person who had caused him such pain.

* * *

"The number you have reached is not in service, please hang up and try your call again... The number you have reached is not in ser..."

Alexander frowned, hanging up his phone. Not in service? That was weird.

He sighed. He should have called last night. He knew he should have called last night.

No, that wasn't right either, he should have let Finley in when he showed up. But fucking Isabel had been there with fucking Hal who was supposed to be out of the country already.

Alexander had been ready to boot both of them out of his house by the time Finley turned up at his front door. He was certainly not letting Isabel anywhere near Finley, especially when his own temper was so frayed. Much as he loved his little sister once she got an idea into her head she became obsessed over it and he didn't want Finley to be hurt by her again.

And Hal was just as bad in his own way. He wanted Alexander to go back and if anyone could have convinced him to go back it would have been Hal. Hal had joined Doctors Without Borders a few years after Alexander, they had been sent to the same place and had become friends quickly. Hal knew all the things that got to Alexander.

He felt guilty as it was. He knew they needed doctors but he wouldn't go back, maybe Hal had more months and years in him but... He didn't. He couldn't. And he didn't need Hal bringing it up around Finley. Finley already knew what kind of horror stories could be found in the wake of war or simple neglect. He didn't need to be reminded.

Fuck, it had been a frustrating and just weird couple of weeks. It was nice seeing Hal again but, well, he could be so... focussed on his opinions that he didn't stop to consider anything else. Add in to that that Isabel had, Alexander guessed, some crush on his friend so she was always popping up and she could be just as bad...

The dreams, coming frequently, some bad, some good, some inanely normal, didn't help but that... things were falling into place. He thought he was coming to understand, he thought he was figuring it out. What Finley would think of it, and he had to tell Finley at some point, remained to be seen and maybe, he thought uncomfortably, he should have told Finley earlier.

But... Alexander rubbed his face uneasily. He had been too blunt with Finley. His lover probably didn't understand. He had just been so frustrated...

He had to see Finley first though. He wanted to see Finley just to see him. Just to be with him.

Alexander smiled softly. He wondered what his sister's reaction would be if she knew he loved Finley. He wondered what Hal's would be if he found Finley was a good grounding for him to stay for, he would have even if he hadn't met him but... Being with Finley made him feel that much more solid in his choice to stay home.

Home. That's what he wanted now. He wanted something permanent and he knew who he wanted it with. Annie and Eve understood it, they had it, so did his parents. Evan did because he wanted that, he just hadn't been able to find it yet. Izzie and Hal... maybe they would want it, maybe they wouldn't ever but he did and they would just have to realize he wasn't a wanderer anymore, he couldn't be.

He looked at the phone and then went to grab his jacket. He needed to see Finley. He hadn't seen him enough in the last months and he missed just being with his lover.

He should have gone over last night, even though Hal had crashed in his guest room. Hal could've let himself out. The phone worried him.

Finley's apartment was quiet when Alexander let himself in which was odd because Ben was supposed to be visiting. He plugged the phone back in absently, not knowing Finley had ripped it out of the wall two nights before. He frowned, looking around.

Ben wasn't here. He could see that. Whenever the big soldier was visiting his presence was obvious in the little apartment. Had something happened to him? Was that why Finley had come over that night?

No, Alexander frowned, trying to remember what Finley had been saying. He had been distracted. Hal had been talking about death statistics, of all things.

Something... Something about... The last few weeks, wanting to know what was up?

Oh shit.

Alexander felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. Shit, he had fucked up royally this time. God, what must Finley have thought? Shit, Finley would not have taken something like that well!

Alexander picked up the phone. Finley had any important numbers stuck up beside the wall. He would go down the list. Ben was first.

The phone rang. Once, twice, three times...

"Hello?"

Ben sounded distracted and worried. That did not comfort Alexander.

"Ben, hi, it's Alex, have you seen...?"

click

Alexander stared at the phone then slowly, slowly put it back. He rubbed his forehead.

"Fuck."

**

* * *

Character list**

**Finley---Faramir**

**Ben---Boromir**

**Irving---Imrahil (and at least one of his children will make an appearance)**

_Fin and Ben are brothers. Irving is their uncle. Both their parents are dead and, yes, their parents were Denethor and Finduilas. _

**Alexander---Aragorn**

**Gail--Gilraen**

**Alan---Arathorn II**

**Isabel---Not a reincarnation**

**Daniel (who hasn't made an appearance by name so far)---Not a reincarnation**

**Annabella (Annie)---Arwen**

_Gail and Alan had three children, in this order, Alexander, Daniel and Isabel. Arathorn and Gilraen never had the chance, really, to have more children because Arathorn died. That puts a hamper on things. Gail and Alan, however, did not have that problem and thus, reproduced some more! Annie is Alexander's first cousin. _

**Eric--Eomer**

**Eve---Eowyn**

_Brother and sister and, yes, their parents were Eomund and Theodwyn. Alan and Gail sort of adopted them when their parents died. Eve and Annie are a couple and have been for quite some time. Eric is single, no, you can't have him. _

**Hal---Halbarad**

**Marie---Not a reincarnation.**

_Dating, sort of. _

**Marcus---Mablung**

**Andrew---Anborn**

**I don't think I missed anyone. There will be at least one more reincarnation popping up and a few non-reincarnations who will make cameos. **

**Also, if this chapter left you a bit bewildered that was the effect I was looking because that's basically what every single character is feeling at this point. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Notes: Thank you to Mandi, I own nothing, more at the bottom!**

Chapter 7

Ben had the basement of the house. He had the higher rank. He got paid more. He paid more rent and so, he got the largest bedroom, as it were. The basement had been four small rooms, he had knocked down the walls, except for the tiny bathroom. They shared a shower, which was upstairs, a kitchen and a family room.

It wasn't much and Andrew was getting married soon so it would be changing, but it was home enough. And Ben's basement was quiet, when he wanted it to be, a bit removed from the rest of the house.

Which was good because Finley didn't want to be part of the house. When they had arrived yesterday to the empty house, both Marcus and Andrew being on base, Finley had curled up on the ragged couch and dozed until Ben had made him move to the bed, where he slept for awhile, then stared at nothing for a while.

Ben had raided the library and the local blockbuster, hoping for something to distract his brother. Finley read a bit and watched the movies and talked to Ben but...his brother seemed very much alone and not, Ben thought, entirely there.

Ben was worried but...he wasn't frantic yet. It was a rare thing for Finley to let anyone get close to him anymore but when he did let someone in he became dependant on them emotionally. Whatever had happened between him and Alexander, and Ben still didn't really understand that, it would take time for Finley to heal from it.

Ben sat on the bed beside his brother. Finley lay on his side curled around a pillow. His eyes were half open and he looked like he was watching the movie that played out on the small tv screen. Ben knew if he asked Finley would not be able to name him one character.

Ben sighed. Finley didn't move. Ben could still hear the rattle in his breath too clearly. He reached out and, slowly, began rubbing his little brother's back gently.

Finley stirred just a little, turning his face up and whispering, "Sorry."

Ben shook his head. His fingers very gently ghosted over Finley's mussed hair. "What for?"

Finley frowned, "Not sure. Just am."

Ben smiled sadly, "Me too, Fin."

* * *

Alexander knew he was in trouble when he pulled up in front of the house. Hell, he had known he was in trouble two seconds after that phone call.

He hoped Finley was here. He couldn't imagine where else he would be, unless he hopped a plane to Canada to stay with his uncle.

That meant facing Ben, not something he was looking forward to doing. He wanted to see Finley, talk to Finley, see if he could figure out what was going through his head and then fix the mistakes he had made and they had made and just...fix things, make them right again.

Ben was sitting on the front porch, drinking a cup of coffee. It had been Marcus' turn to make it which meant it tasted about the same as motor oil with just as much kick to it.

Finley hadn't slept well that night. Correction, Finley hadn't really slept. Oh, an hour or so, before Ben woke him from a nightmare.

He wouldn't, and Ben thought maybe he couldn't, sleep after that. Not until a headache had grown with surprising speed and knocked him flat. But that wasn't sleeping, really, that was the pain medication rendering him unconscious.

He looked up, at the sound of the car stopping and his eyes narrowed. Almost unconsciously he cracked his knuckles and rose from his seat on the porch.

Alexander saw him and had to stop himself from flinching at the look in Ben's eyes. It

felt...worse somehow. He liked Ben, he knew he could be friends with Finley's brother, given a little more time, since they had only met three times.

He hadn't wanted something like this to happen. Ever.

"Give me one good reason," Ben began conversationally, "why I shouldn't beat you to a bloody pulp right now?"

Alexander swallowed but met Ben's gaze. It helped that he doubted Ben would actually take things that far. "I could have you charged with assault if you do."

Ben smiled unpleasantly, "You wouldn't though. You know that'd hurt Fin."

"So would beating the shit out of me," Alexander retorted. "I love your brother."

"Funny, he's rather unsure of that," Ben's face darkened. "You fucked up. You fucking hurt him."

"I never meant to," Alexander replied quietly.

Ben snorted and ran a hand through his short hair. "Yeah? Well, you did."

"I need to see Fin," Alexander said, forcing himself to remain calm. "I need to talk to him."

"You think I'm going to let you anywhere near him?" Ben laughed. "Fuck you."

"He won't stay here forever," Alexander countered.

"He'll be here long enough. Couple of weeks at least, I'd guess," Ben informed him. "You've been around for a few months, I've been there for Fin for his whole life and through more than you can imagine. You think he's shaky now. You don't have a fucking clue. I know I can influence his decisions. I haven't before, I've made sure I didn't but don't think I won't this time, to keep him safe."

"Safe? Damnit, Ben, I love him!" Alexander kept himself from shouting but only just. "Doesn't that count for anything? I love him. This was all a stupid mistake."

"A stupid mistake that left him with a broken heart and pneumonia. If I hadn't been coming over, if I hadn't found him, he would be worse, maybe a lot worse," Ben replied with just as much force. "You can't fuck up with, Fin. You can't. He sat out in the rain and cold all night because of this stupid mistake, you fucking asshole. He's practically a zombie because of this stupid mistake. I don't care if you love my brother if this is going to be the result of you loving him."

"He what?" Alexander asked, looking shocked. "I...Fuck! Is he okay?"

"No, he's not okay," Ben replied shortly. "But he will be, I'll make sure of it."

"I...Jesus," Alexander muttered. "Ben, I never meant for this to happen. I'm sorry it did. But I love him. I love him. And I don't want to lose him."

Ben looked at him hard and rubbed a hand over his face. "You know, if you were anyone else we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Yeah, I know," Alexander replied.

"You say you love him, that you're sorry," Ben stated. "Prove it then. To me."

"To you," Alexander echoed.

"Yup," Ben nodded suddenly. "Yeah, you prove it to me. If you do, I'll give you the chance to prove it to him."

"How on Earth am I supposed to do that?" Alexander questioned.

Ben shrugged. "Don't know. Figure it out."

He went back, sat down and picked up his mug again. Sipping the liquid slowly and grimacing. It was too early for this.

Alexander stood there on the lawn for a few moments, thinking. He glanced up at Ben, grimaced and walked up onto the porch and took a seat beside him.

Ben raised an eyebrow at him.

Alexander met his gaze. "I'll leave if you don't want me sitting here."

"I don't want Finley to see you," Ben told him. "But I doubt he'll be coming upstairs any time soon."

"He okay?" Alexander asked, and Ben could clearly hear the worry in his voice.

"Headache but no, he's not, anyway," Ben replied. "He needs time."

Alexander fidgeted and Ben knew that the other man wanted to go to Finley. Ben took another sip of his coffee. "If he is coming out front I'll tell you and I expect you to leave."

Alexander stiffened but nodded shortly.

"You do realize," Ben said mildly, "that if he saw you here at this moment he would take you back no questions asked."

Alexander's lips disappeared into a very thin line.

"I'm not letting that happen," Ben continued. "He needs to think about it. He needs to question."

Ben shook his head, "Even if there wasn't this...situation we're in he needs to start doing that again."

Ben finished his coffee with a few quick gulps, stood up and went inside without another word.

* * *

Marcus was tired when he got home. What he wanted to do was have a beer and watch the hockey game. Andrew and Ben made that difficult seeing at they were not fans, especially when it conflicted with their sports.

But Andrew was with his girl for the night and Ben would likely stay with his brother, poor Fin.

The television was his!

And who the hell was sitting on his front porch?

The man nodded to him as he came up the steps but didn't say anything. He looked, Marcus thought, rather preoccupied.

"No offense but who the hell are you and why the hell are you on my front porch?" Marcus questioned as a greeting.

The man smiled and shook his head. "Ask Ben. He'll understand better than I do."

Marcus blinked, refused to smile and turned to go inside. He liked this guy, whoever he was. Shaking his head, he went inside.

Ben had the tv. Fuck.

"I don't know why people watch golf," Ben commented, squinting and not quite picking out the little white ball against equally white clouds. "Even if it is for charity."

"Good thing we're watching hockey then," Marcus replied on his way to the fridge. Success! "Want a beer?"

"Yeah," Ben replied. Marcus smiled as he heard the channel change.

He passed Ben a bottle and opened his own. "How's Fin?"

Ben shook his head. "Headache hasn't improved. He's sleeping now, sort of. If it's still like this tomorrow I'll take him to the clinic."

"They've lasted longer before," Marcus pointed out.

"He didn't have pneumonia before," Ben replied, taking a swig from the bottle and grimacing slightly. "I don't know why but I always feel like Canadian beer when there's hockey on."

"Your damn uncle spoiled you, that's why," Marcus told him. "Why is there some guy on our front porch?"

Ben snorted, "You don't want to know."

Marcus looked at the screen. Pre-game commentator crap. He looked back at Ben. "Who the hell is he?"

"Fin's boyfriend," Ben replied.

Marcus was about to take a swig of his beer but put it down and stared at Ben as if he had grown another head. "That guy?"

Ben took a swallow and nodded. "Yep."

"Why the fuck aren't we beating the shit out of him?" Marcus asked.

Ben shook his head. "It's a bit more complicated than that."

Marcus snorted. "He fucked with Finley."

"Yeah, but I think a lot of it might've been a mistake," Ben sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "I think they both fucked up. He was a prick and Finley overreacted."

"But he was a prick and Finley got hurt," Marcus reminded Ben. "So...Why aren't we kicking the shit out of him?"

"Because Finley loves him," Ben replied. "And he loves Finley. They're just being fucktards about it."

"Oh, okay," Marcus took a swallow of his beer, not entirely happy, not entirely sure he wanted to know.

Ben glanced sideways at him, "If he fucks up again or if he doesn't get his act together enough now, then we can smack some sense into him."

Marcus nodded, "Good."

* * *

"Is Finley any better?" Alexander asked as soon as Ben come out onto the porch again. The sun was just setting but the sky had been so grey all day it hardly made a difference.

"No," Ben replied, standing in the doorway. "He's out, still, again. I don't know."

Alexander shifted. He wanted to be able to go to his lover but he wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't just make matters worse. "Fuck."

"Yeah, pretty much," Ben sighed. He opened up a beer, his third of the night. "You want one?"

"No thanks," Alexander replied.

Ben smiled a little at that. He disappeared for a moment. "Here."

He handed Alexander a cup of coffee. Alexander looked at him in surprise as he sat down. "Thanks."

Ben just nodded. Alexander took a sip. It wasn't how he liked it, too much milk, not enough sugar, and it was a bit...thicker than he thought coffee should be, but he wasn't about to complain.

"You planning to spend the night out here?" Ben asked.

"Unless you want me to leave," Alexander told him.

"Don't care," Ben replied.

They sat in silence for a few moments. "Have you got a vaporizer?"

Ben blinked and look at him. "A what?"

"It's a machine. It works as a decongestant by putting moisture into the atmosphere of a room," Alexander replied. "It'd help Fin. If you put the right scented oil in it, it can also help with headaches. Lavender usually works for Finley."

Ben just looked at him. Alexander shrugged. "It works. My mother insists my siblings and I have a vaporizer somewhere in the house, both my brother and my sister had breathing problems as children and my brother gets migraines from time to time now."

Ben smiled just slightly. "When Andrew's mom calls she always asks if he has Vic's vapour rub on hand just in case he gets sick."

Alexander chuckled and took another sip of coffee. Ben took a swallow of beer. "I wouldn't know a vaporizer if it bit me in the ass."

Alexander looked at him and put down his mug before standing up. "I'll get one."

Ben raised an eyebrow. "Now?"

Alexander smiled thinly. "I'll find one."

Ben shrugged. "Okay."

"Need anything else?" Alexander asked.

Ben shook his head and took another swig of beer. Alexander nodded once and got out his car keys. "Okay then."

* * *

"Ben?"

Ben looked up and leaned over, taking the cold clothe off of Finley's forehead and eyes. He looked dazed but there wasn't quite as much pain in his eyes. It was still there but...well, he could open his eyes and keep them open, so that counted for something.

"Hey, sunshine, feeling any better?" Ben asked quietly.

Finley's head lolled to the side a little and he let out a soft grunt. "Bit."

"That's good," Ben said, pushing a few strands of wet hair back from his little brother's forehead.

Finley's noise wrinkled a tiny bit. "Smells different."

"Yeah, someone suggested it might help a bit," Ben told him.

"Oh," Finley's eyes were distant.

Ben hesitated for a moment. "Alex...called. Suggested it."

"Oh," Finley whispered. "He..."

Finley coughed a bit and a flush crept into his pale cheeks. Ben shushed him gently. He stopped, closing his eyes again.

Ben got up and dampened the clothe again. He laid it on Finley's forehead. "Think you can sleep some more? It would be good for you."

Finley mumbled something that sounded vaguely like assent. Ben replaced the cloth over his eyes. For a moment he left his hand against his brother's mussed hair.

"Rest, Fin," he murmured. "Get some rest."

* * *

**Author's Notes: Wow, glad no one killed me for that last chapter. Or for updating late. Yeah, I had an article published in the school paper that's been on the back of my mind AND I went to a meeting for the feminist mag on campus and found out they are planning to turn it into a girlie magazine, basically. Pissed me right off. I had to leave early before I throttled someone and buy the new Green Day cd as therapy. I'm glad writing this doesn't make me feel like throwing up like writing articles does. **

**athelas63: Heh, well Ben didn't kick Alex's ass...but it's not entirely over yet. As for Fin getting better...well, I'm not sure he can, not entirely, but there is room for improvement.**

**EntSpinster: Yeah, Alex is getting to the point of stopping his wandering's. He just needs to actually DO IT. Ben is...past the point of exploding. I can't say too much without giving too much away but the explosion or moment of madness as it were has already passed. Ben wouldn't have an explosion be fatal anyway but part of that is that he won't leave Finley all alone. And there won't be a Laurie, I can tell you that, but Irving does have a daughter who will be around at some point or other...**

**PrincessFAz: There will be at least one, if not more than one, flashback chapter BUT I won't be writing in detail what happened to Fin at any point during the time it was happening. After, yes, but not during. That being said, Fin was taken prisoner in a hostile situation and they weren't playing by the rules of the war. **

**Circini: Someday, eventually, this may morph into an original piece. We'll see. **

**Chibikaz: Well there's a chance, he's just got to earn it.**

**Hopeless Delirium: If anyone outside of the reincarnated person gets Eric, it'll be me, and I'll fight you for that! :-)**

**Someone Stupid: Aw, you're not stupid. Rambling reviews are good. Annie...yeah, Annie took over the role that was going to be split between Eve and Eric. She just kinda barged into it so...shrugs In Dreams is also being worked on but I have more finished of Reborn. **


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Notes: Thank you Mandi, sorry this is a bit late, more at the bottom._

**Chapter 8**

Marcus didn't look up when the front door slammed open then shut. He kept munching on his dry cereal. Dry because there was no milk and he knew from experience beer didn't work well with Lucky Charms. He didn't like coffee much without milk either but what the hell.

Andrew came into the kitchen, muttering and cursing under his breath. Marcus suppressed a grin as he took a sip of his black but highly sugared motor oil. Andrew always forgot something he needed when he stayed over at his girlfriend's apartment. It was a universal constant.

Andrew poured himself a cup of coffee, saw there was no milk and just about broke his cup. He drank it anyway, with no sugar, in a few gulps.

Andrew was not a morning person.

He sat at the table with Marcus, who had decided not to eat anything Ben bought because Ben had bad taste when it came to food... and also women but that was besides the point. Andrew finished his coffee.

"Who the fuck is that sleeping on our front porch?" he asked now that he was slightly more awake.

Marcus nearly choked on a marshmallow. "Dude, you don't want to know."

* * *

Ben didn't get up until both Marcus and Andrew had left already. He was tired. Finley had had a bad night. The headache had eased but twin nightmares had followed it.

So Ben had stayed up with him, watching the ridiculous movies he had rented. Nothing with too much violence, explosions or too depressing; not after nightmares, not when Finley was already fragile.

So basically, they watched chick flicks and movies with a lot of fart jokes in them.

Fin was... Fin was tired. And he wasn't, as Ben had been informed, at all hungry.

He needed to eat something anyway but it was going to be bland. Ben wasn't sure he would keep down anything else. Between the headache and the nightmares... Finley's stomach was going to be touchy.

Mashed potatoes then. Strange to have as a meal for breakfast but whenever Finley wouldn't eat anything else he would eat instant mashed potatoes. Their mother used to make them.

But they needed milk. Shit.

He checked on Finley, who wasn't going anywhere soon, and went to grab the groceries he needed. He was surprised when he found the blanket he had brought out last night neatly folded on the chair but no Alexander. It was... disappointing. He thought, maybe, this would work out for Fin but... damnit.

He sighed, and suddenly felt like punching something or going and hugging his brother very tightly. The latter option was more compelling but Finley wouldn't get it, might even guess something was up so...

Ben was surprised at the relief he felt when Alexander's car pulled up and he got out, carrying a couple bags and, to Ben's slight amazement, clean shaven. Alexander smiled at his expression.

"Wouldn't be the first time I've shaved in a McDonald's washroom," he quipped.

Ben laughed despite himself. "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not," Alexander informed him. "Marcus said you were basically out of food and I figured you wouldn't want to leave Fin, so..."

He pulled out a brown paper bag with a familiar golden M on it. Ben didn't often indulge in really greasy good, he tried to eat semi-well and the semi part was taken up by the sugary junk he figured should've rotted his teeth already. That didn't mean he didn't enjoy it when it was put in front of him, though.

And Alexander had brought enough, too. Two egg McMuffins, sausage and bacon, and three hashbrowns and... no coffee, but Ben'd rather drink actual motor oil than McDonald's coffee.

"You keep this up and I might have to keep you around myself," Ben said, finishing off the first McMuffin quickly.

Alexander raised an eyebrow and pulled out his own breakfast. He only had one McMuffin, but he had three hashbrowns. "Sorry, you're not my type."

Ben laughed and nearly chocked on his breakfast. Alexander smiled slightly. "How's Fin?"

"Could be worse," Ben shrugged. "He had a couple bad nightmares last night."

Alexander grimaced. "Yeah, I figured bringing him any take out wouldn't be helpful and I didn't see anywhere to buy mashed potatoes."

"Instant is best anyway," Ben commented, finishing off a hasbrown.

"I know," Alexander replied, he pulled a box out of the grocery bag and gave a small shrug. "I wasn't sure you had any."

"We do, but thanks," Ben told him.

"You've got to eat more than that, sunshine," Ben told his little brother when Finley moved to push the plate aside.

Finley looked at him, hesitated, leaned back and stuck his tongue out at his brother. Ben grinned but persisted. "You really do, Fin."

"Later, I promise," Finley sighed, pushing the less than half finished plate of mashed potatoes aside. "I'm sorry. I'm not hungry."

Ben wasn't happy but he knew if Finley tried to force the food down it would just make a reappearance. Since Finley had already taken his medication... Ben wasn't about to risk it.

"Okay." Ben put the plate aside.

Finley looked away, then looked back at his brother. "Alex called."

Ben did not look at his brother, keeping his eyes on the television screen. "Yeah."

Finley waited. "Well?"

"Yes?" Ben replied.

"What did he say?" Finley asked softly.

Ben shrugged. "Stuff."

"That isn't an answer," Finley said. "Please, Ben, what did he say?"

Ben sighed, "Just stuff. He told me how that thing might help you."

"That's it?" Finley asked, his voice soft.

"No, that's not it, Fin," Ben replied, finally looking at his brother. "Let me ask you a question. If he was here, right now, what would you do? If he said he didn't want to break up with you and that he was sorry would you even question it?"

Finley's lips got tighter and he looked away.

Ben sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Fin, damnit..."

"I don't know," Finley began hollowly. "I don't know what I'd do. I love him, Ben, I just... I love him."

"I know you do," Ben assured him. "But that doesn't mean you should forgive and forget everything."

"I know that!" Finley replied heatedly and then began coughing fiercely.

Ben moved forward rapidly. Finley rested his head against his brother's shoulder, hunched forward, still coughing. Ben rubbed his arched back until the coughing let up then pushed the mussed hair back, trying to see his brother's pale, pinched face. Finley's thumbs were digging into his hip bones as he held fast to his brother.

"Ben," Finley rasped. "I love him and it hurts to be like this, without him. I miss him and I know if... if things don't change, if I don't change then... then this could happen again, will happen again and that hurts too and I don't want it to. I don't want to hurt anymore."

"But I've tried that, I've tried being apart, not hurting, and it doesn't work either and it really won't now, not again. It's lonely and it's cold and I love him and I can't stop that." Finley tilted his head. His eyes were dark and deep.

"Ben," Finley swallowed. "Ben, I don't know what to do. I don't. But I'm trying to figure it out. I just... I just need some time, is all."

* * *

"Okay," Ben said, hugging his brother close. "Okay, Fin."

Ben sat down on the porch with a thud. Alexander turned his gaze to him from the rain. His brow creased in worry. "Fin okay?"

Ben sighed. "Sure, sort of."

Alexander was quiet for a moment. "Are you okay?"

Ben chuckled, humourlessly. "Fine, I suppose."

Alexander didn't say anything just waited. Ben sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "He's my little brother, you know?"

Alexander nodded. He had two younger siblings, after all. Both were confidant enough for themselves now but... that hadn't always been the case for either of them. "I know."

Ben looked at him for a moment, then his gaze dropped back to the porch. Neither spoke for a moment. Ben looked up suddenly, three thin lines appearing on the bridge of his nose. "Don't you work?"

Alexander shook his head. "Took some time off. Indefinite time. I... Well, normally when I come back I want to throw myself into my work, normal work, but this time... I don't know, it's not the same."

Ben frowned. He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. His eyebrow crept up slowly as he thought about it.

"I'm thinking of starting my own clinic, actually. I've been looking into it. But that doesn't happen overnight. I don't want to rush into it either," Alexander continued. "I wanted to take some time off before I started on that because once I do start trying to make that happen I won't have time to take a large lump of time off for a while. Plus...Well, I'm more burnt out then I first thought I was."

Ben nodded. It would not be good for both his brother and Alexander to be doing nothing all the time. It wasn't good for Finley alone. It was just hard and complicated to get him to the point where functioning in a professional way wasn't a problem.

"How long is indefinite going to last?" Ben asked.

Alexander shrugged, "Depends. I thought maybe a year, year and a half but that depends."

"On what?" Ben pressed.

"Fin, mostly, now, and before," Alexander looked out into the rain again. "I thought about travelling a bit."

The frown lines on Ben's face deepened and he opened his mouth. Alexander half smiled. "With him, Ben, not alone."

"I was hoping you weren't going to say you were going to go off on some quest to find yourself of something ridiculous," Ben admitted.

Alexander laughed. "God, no. I'm too old for that. Shit, if I don't know who I am by now there's no chance of discovering it. Besides, finding yourself seems to too often involve uncomfortable accommodations and I've had my fill of those."

Ben raised an eyebrow. "You've been sitting, day and night, on my porch for three days now. That's not actually comfortable."

Alexander's lips twitched at the corners. "Worth it though, if you let me see Fin."

Ben didn't comment. Then he frowned again and looked at Alexander in bewilderment. "How the hell have you been going to the bathroom?"

Alexander laughed, loudly, shaking his head. "Gas station down the road. They've been looking at me funny since yesterday."

Ben got a funny look on his face, which Alexander thought, but did not say, made him look like he was constipated. Then he gave in and laughed.

Ben shook his head, a smile still playing about his lips. "Okay. So are you going to tell me what the hell happened because I still don't know precisely. Fin thinks you two have broken up."

Alexander grimaced. "We haven't, not unless that's what he wants."

"He doesn't know but he thought you were breaking up with him, and honestly some of the things he said made me wonder," Ben told him. He looked at Alexander carefully. "Are you cheating on him?"

"No!" Alexander replied, looking slightly bewildered by the suggestion. "Of course not!"

"Were you?" Ben pressed.

"NO!" Alexander nearly exploded at that. He stopped, ran a hand through his hair and forced himself to not get angry. "No, I'm not cheating on him and I never did."

Ben said nothing. Alexander's agitation grew. "Why would Fin think that?"

"You stopped calling him. You were never around, made up stupid excuses as to why, and when you were around you weren't, not really. What was he supposed to think?" Ben asked.

Alexander winced. "I never cheated on him. I would never cheat on him." Alexander rubbed a hand roughly over his face. "Fuck."

Anger flicked in Ben's eyes. "Where were you? What was going on?"

"A few things. I was arranging my leave. I was trying to get Hal off my back and trying to keep Isabel away from Fin," Alexander sighed, not saying everything. He couldn't say anything. Finley might believe him but... Shit, Ben would think he was crazy and that wouldn't do him any good. "She left for a few months four days ago. I guess I didn't juggle everything very well."

"No shit." Ben ran a hand through his hair. "You were fucking careless. Why the hell didn't you call him while you were away ever? Or when you were home even?"

"I just..." Alexander hesitated. He couldn't tell Ben. He couldn't. "I've never had anyone to call before, except my parents and whenever I thought to call him it was late and I know how Finley sleeps. I never wanted to wake him."

"Fuck, I need a smoke," Ben grumbled. "You are infuriating."

"I didn't know you smoked," Alexander commented, pointedly ignoring Ben's other words.

"I don't. I quit years ago hoping it would encourage Fin to," Ben replied.

"I think, at this point in time, it would be worse on Fin's health to try and quit," Alexander shrugged. "It calms him when he needs it. Otherwise he'd be making himself sick more often and quitting would only add to the stress."

Ben blew out a huff of breath. "Yeah, I guess so. Who's Hal?"

"Pardon?" Alexander asked, startled by the abrupt subject change.

"Hal. You said Hal was bugging you. Who is Hal?" Ben repeated.

"Oh. Yeah. Hal is a doctor I worked with. He's still with Doctors Without Borders," Alexander chuckled a bit. "He's very straight and dating someone, well, sort of dating someone."

"What was he bugging you about then?" Ben asked.

Alexander shrugged. "He wanted me to go back with him."

"Go back where?" Ben demanded, looking at Alexander as if he had grown another head.

"Africa, where I was before." Alexander scratched his chin and looked at Ben. "I'm not going."

"Good," Ben said shortly. "I know it's your decision and it's your life but, fuck man, I don't even want to think about what that would do to Fin."

"You don't have to, I'm not going back," Alexander told him.

"He'd want to go with you," Ben stated, looking surprised at his sudden insight.

"No. That would not be happening even if I was considering going, which I'm not," Alexander replied firmly. "Jesus, Fin has enough of his own demons haunting him, okay? I'm not going back. End of story."

Ben was silent for a few moments. "If Fin wasn't in the picture would you?"

"No, I don't think so," Alexander shook his head, his eyes distant.

"I know they need doctors there, all over the place," Ben murmured.

"Yeah, they do, but it can't be me again," Alexander said softly. "Not anymore. Maybe I should, maybe I'm just selfish but I'm still not going back. It can't be me anymore."

Ben nodded. "Yeah, well, I don't blame you. I'm glad as hell I'm not deployed any more."

Alexander smiled faintly. "We sound really, really old right now."

Ben laughed. "Yeah, well, maybe you..."

Alexander snorted. Ben grinned for a moment, before falling serious again. "Okay, so I get you were busy but why did Finley freak like this?"

Alexander blushed. "I haven't been spending a lot of time with him and, well, I didn't want him to know about Hal trying to talk me into going back or Izzie being around all the time and I didn't tell him about the leave, not until I got it, so..."

"So he had no clue what was going on at all." Ben's face darkened. "Fuck. Why didn't you want him around your friends?"

"Because my friends can be assholes when they're trying to get me to do something, especially Hal because he knows that part of me considers going back an option even though I won't. He's not above trying to get Fin to help talk me into it and he pries. My sister can easily be a bitch. She thinks Finley is a gold digger," Alexander grimaced. "She thinks everyone I've ever dated was a gold digger and thought my brother's wife was for a long time too. She already managed to upset him once, I'm trying to keep her away from him and, well, she's had a crush on Hal for awhile."

"You're not going to be able to keep her away from Fin forever, not if you want this to be a long term thing." Ben's expression said it had better be a long term thing.

"I know, but she'll be gone for a few months now," Alexander said. "Which solves nothing, but it means I don't have to think about it until she does get back."

"Yeah, that's not the greatest idea," Ben told him.

Alexander looked at him. "I'll worry about her when I don't have to worry about Fin."

"Fair enough," Ben conceded. "You still basically did everything wrong."

"Yeah, I fucked up," Alexander sighed. "I'm sorry. I can't say that enough but I am."

Ben rubbed a hand over his face. "Fucking up with Finley has some major ramifications, as I'm sure you've noticed."

"No shit," Alexander muttered. "If I had known..."

"Yeah, well, hindsight is always 20/20," Ben pointed out. "Now you do know. Finley... If he lets you close then he gets dependant on you and taking that away... It fucks him up. And..."

Ben sighed, "And I don't know what to do, how to help him. Fuck, I can't protect him, not if I don't want to hurt him because in the long run that's what I'll do. I can't be the only solid person in his life, it doesn't work that way."

"And thinking no one will ever hurt him is unrealistic. I know that. People fight and can be selfish no matter how good intentioned or kind they are." Ben's eyes were hard and they bore into Alexander's. He didn't look away. "But not like this. You can't hurt him like this again. He'll survive it, yeah, but part of him died and no one can fucking fix that. You, however, will not survive because if you ever hurt him like this again, I will kill you."

Alexander swallowed because Ben could do just that and with very little effort. He wouldn't, because of Finley, because it would mean he went to jail and that would just about kill Finley, but he could and that was a damn scary thought.

Ben sighed and suddenly looked very weary. "There's no way I can know for sure you won't hurt him again but that's fucking life, isn't it?"

Ben looked at Alexander and Alexander wished he could tell him that he would never hurt Finley again, that no one would ever hurt his brother again. He nodded.

"But you love him," Ben said. "And he loves you. Of all the stupid..." He shook his head. "I ought to smack you both. Don't you fuck this up again. I'm not entirely satisfied with your reasons for fucking up in the first place but..."

Ben shrugged. "It's Fin's choice, in the end."

"Never meant to hurt him in the first place," Alexander replied. "Don't plan on doing it again."

"Yeah, well, good," Ben stood up. So did Alexander.

"When he's ready to see you I'll let you come in and he's not, not yet. Give him a little more time." Ben looked at him sharply. "You going to stay here?"

"Yeah," Alexander replied. "If you don't object?"

"I don't," Ben told him. "But I have to go check on him."

Alexander nodded and watched Ben go back inside the house. He stuck his head out before he disappeared inside and gave Alexander a funny look. "And for God's sake, knock when you have to go to the washroom. Shit, that's just bloody ridiculous..."

* * *

**Someone Stupid (who isn't stupid): **I update every two weeks or there abouts. I try to do it Mondays. Sometimes I forget what day it is, sometimes I get busy so sometimes it gets delayed. Like this week! Oopsie.

**athelas63: **Yeah, Alex...yeah. I don't know what got into him. Alex is actually the character who I understand the least. He's not diffifult to write I just never seem to know what he thinking. I love Ben. He's a big teddy bear. A teddy bear that kills. Fin will eventually get a break, I think. Eventually.

**clairon: **Half the time I want to cuddle Fin, so no, you aren't.

**Kasmi Kassim: **Thank you! And it's changed!

**Hopeless Delirium: **The girlie magazine didn't get fixed. :-( So a friend and I are planning to take it over next year. I'm currently writing for the school newspaper as a sports writer.

**PrincessFAz: **There are reasons for it, though they aren't really solid gold reasons. The man is only human, after all. I didn't know what a vaporizer was so Ben didn't either. (I think that's because we call them something else actually) And there mother died when they were young so...Ben will get really, really angry at least once before the story is over, I'm just not saying who he'll be angry at! ;-) Fin's got some mashed potatoes, it's not chicken soup but it's what he likes.

**Amy Earls**: Alex and Fin's seperation wasn't meant as something to up the angst but as a way to bring up a lot of issues that needed to be brought up, and not just between Alex and Fin. There is also a reason behind it. A reason that is not in this chapter but will be partly in the next one and partly in other ones. I probably don't need all the characters or at least I don't need to link them all back. Ben needed house mates though and Alexander needed parents and siblings, who will be back, and it makes sense, to me, to link them back when that's an option. All the characters, so far, that are reincarnations match to their character by the first letter of their name, if that helps any. There was also a character list with family connections in another author's note.

Just as a tease, the next chapter will include Alex and Fin seeing each other.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Notes: Look! It's on time for once! LOOK! Thanks Mandi for beta'ing so wonderfully like your normal awesome self.**

**Also, I know it seems like longer because of the time in between updates, but Finley hasn't been sick more than a week. In fact, Ben only had a week's worth of leave so it's been just under a week so far. Not that long. Really, I promise. **

**Chapter 9**

"Ben?"

Ben looked over at his little brother. Finley was laying sideways across the bed, curled up. He was always curled up, looking as if he was shielding himself from being kicked. Ben frowned at the thought.

"Yes, Fin?"

Finley hesitated, then half rolled over to peer at his big brother. "Did Alex ever call again?"

"Yeah, he did," Ben replied. "Often."

"Oh." Finley was silent for a while. "Think I should talk to him?"

"Maybe," Ben answered without really answering. He was not going to make this decision, he wasn't.

Again silence, then, very quietly, "I don't know what to do."

"Do whatever you need to," Ben told him, his tone as gentle as he knew how to make it.

"Ben, please," Finley said, beginning to sound seriously distressed.

"Fin..." Ben sighed and found his brother's grey eyes. Finley wanted him to make it better only he couldn't. "Fin, c'mere, sit up."

Finley did, slowly, confusion on his face. Ben moved to sit in front of him, looking at him intently. Finley didn't look away but shifted, just a little, not entirely comfortable.

"Fin...Alex is here, on the porch and he has been for four days now," Ben told him, figuring he might as well go for broke.

Finley jerked back, staring at his brother. "What?!"

"He showed up the morning after we got here and hasn't really left," Ben told him, his hands finding Finley's.

"But...why?" Finley asked, honestly bewildered.

"He wants to talk to you," Ben told him. Finley just looked at him. "He does, Fin. He's really here."

"Ben, I..." Finley paused and Ben felt awful seeing him look so damn lost. "I don't know what to do. I don't know. Shit. Shit! I thought...but..."

Finley pulled one hand from Ben's and ran it through his hair, tugging gently. He looked at Ben and Ben felt his resolve quiver just enough to make him feel a bit queasy. "I don't know... Do you think I should talk to him?"

"Do you want to talk to him?" Ben questioned.

"Ben... I don't know," Finley tried, fumbling helplessly. "Shit. Fuck. God, yes, I do, but... but, no ... Fuck, why... Why do I have to love him? What if he just... I can't do this, I can't. Fuck. Ben... Please, do you... Do you think I should talk to him? I don't know..."

"I can't decide that for you, Fin," Ben told him gently.

"Ben, please..."

"No, Fin, you've got to hear me out about this," Ben said firmly. "Please, you can't keep doing this. Don't look to me for answers, don't let anyone decide for you. Figure it out yourself, figure out what you want, what you need. Fin... Godamnit, I want to keep you safe. I want to protect you. God knows I never want to see you like that again..."

Ben's voice choked up for a moment. He grasped his brother's hand tightly, his eyes suspiciously moist. "Fin, I love you. I don't want to be the one who ends up hurting you because I tried too hard to protect you. Maybe I already have. I don't know, I'm just sorry Fin. I tried and if it wasn't good enough then I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Ben... Ben, don't please," Finley sounded a bit desperate and starting running a trembling hand through his brother's short hair. He was shaking. "Please, Ben, there isn't anything to be sorry for, okay? I get it and... Ben, we both know that I wouldn't have made it without you, not at first."

Ben did not disagree. He couldn't, they both knew it was true. "That is not now though."

"No, no it's not," Finley agreed. He ducked his head and squeezed Ben's hand and smiled very slightly. "Thank you, just for trying to help me."

"Shit, Fin, I'm your big brother, that's my job," Ben told him. He moved up and wrapped an arm around his brother. Finley rested his head on Ben's shoulder. "You come first for me, you know that."

"Mmm," Finley sighed, his forehead pressing against Ben's neck.

They stayed quiet for a time. Letting the brief calm settle.

Finley broke the silence. "He's really here?"

"Since the morning after we arrived," Ben told him. He looked at Finley's shuttered face. "Is that really so hard for you to believe?"

Numbly, Finley nodded.

"Ah, shit, Fin," Ben murmured and reached to touch his brother's cheek. Until the calloused fingers brushed away the wetness there Finley hadn't realized he'd been crying.

He stopped, and laughed shakily, wiping the tears away. He wouldn't show how much he was shaking, even if Ben already knew. "Well, I feel goddamn ridiculous."

"Don't," Ben told him. "You've got no reason to."

"He's really here?" Finley asked again, in a very small voice.

In any other situation Ben might have laughed. It wasn't funny. "Yes. Outside on the porch right now."

Finley was quiet again and he gripped Ben's hand hard. "Fuck. Fuck. I want to see him. I think I need to, I... Goddamnit, Ben, I love him."

"I know, Fin," Ben said evenly.

Finley was looking for approval, for something, and Ben wasn't going to give it to him. He didn't want Finley to do this just because he thought Ben thought it was what he should. He felt a twinge of guilt, knowing Finley was probably just looking for him to be interested, truly, and Ben didn't think Finley even knew he was doing that, just that he felt awful when nothing more was said.

He sighed and Ben squeezed his hand in support. A frown creased his forehead suddenly as he thought.

"Why is Alex on the front porch?" Finley wondered suddenly.

Ben snorted, choking back laughter. "When he first arrived I told him he had to prove he was serious to me before I let him anywhere near you at all and so he decided to sit on the front porch this whole time."

Finley looked at his brother in disbelief. Then the corners of his mouth twitched and finally he started to laugh.

"Only you, brother," Finley remarked, resting his head against Ben's shoulder. Ben hugged him closer.

"Should I be offended?" Ben teased.

Finley laughed. "No, never."

Ben waited until Finley was relaxed. It took time but patience was something he had learned. "When Fin?"

The tension returned, coiled through him, but he didn't shrink away, at least. "Not tonight. Tomorrow?"

"It's up to you," Ben told him quietly.

"Tomorrow then."

* * *

"Hey."

A hand nudged his shoulder. Alexander grunted, opened his eyes and was awake, looking coherently at Ben.

Ben blinked. "How did you do that?!"

Alexander shrugged. "It's getting me out of bed that's the trouble, not waking me up, and since that problem has been eliminated..."

"Shit, I thought only army bastards like me could do that," Ben muttered. "You're stealing our thunder man."

Alexander yawned and stretched. Ben heard a popping sound and winced as Alexander shook his head to clear the remaining cobwebs. "Can't promise to be cheerful before I've had a cup of coffee."

Ben nodded and disappeared into the house. Alexander blinked, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. When Ben brought him back a cup of coffee he just stared. Ben didn't say anything so after a moment he took a cautious sip, wondering if Ben had decided to poison him.

Ben smiled. "Ready to see Fin?"

Alexander choked, bit his tongue and spilled the coffee. Ben laughed. Alexander could hear the tension in it.

"You can shower first. He's not awake yet. Thought I should tell you before," Ben looked puzzled suddenly. "Okay, I know you haven't been showering at McDonald's or the gas station and you don't smell particularly. Except of coffee."

"Which I'm blaming on you," Alexander remarked. He shrugged. "I rented a motel room."

"Just to take a shower?" Ben asked.

"And shave again, yeah," Alexander replied.

Ben stared for a moment, then laughed and shook his head. "You're a very odd person."

Alexander raised an eyebrow at him before tilting his head and grinning. "I suppose so."

Ben smiled, straightened, and looked at Alexander seriously. "If you don't fuck this up again I'll be glad he has you."

Alexander blinked. "Thanks."

* * *

Finley was sitting up in bed when Alexander came downstairs. Alexander watched as he paled further, swallowed and clutched the blankets that covered his feet.

Alexander stood at the base of the stairs. Neither of them knew what to say.

"It occurred to me,"Alexander began even as a blush crept across his face. "It occurred to me, on the porch, that I never told you I loved you."

Finley stared at him, then looked down, away. "No, you didn't."

"Right. I should have because I do," Alexander continued, fumbling. "I love you, Fin."

Finley didn't say anything.

Alexander tried to smile and failed miserably. He sighed. "I'm sorry, Fin."

"Yeah," Finley said dully.

Alexander took a step forward but stopped there. He frowned at himself. "Fin, I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I didn't even realize what I was doing at the time and... Jesus, this sounds like I'm making excuses for myself."

"Yeah, it does," Finley agreed in the same flat tone.

Alexander stayed silent for a moment, the struggle clear on his face. "I fucked up."

"No shit." There was a diamond sharpness in his voice.

"Fin..." Alexander came forward to sit on the edge of the bed. He made no move to touch him but Finley edged away.

Alexander looked down. "Fin, I can explain why I've been an ass to you lately if you want. I fucked up and you got hurt and I'm sorry for it. There are reasons, but even with those reasons I don't want you to think I'm trying to avoid the blame for all this."

"Just tell me why," Finley told him, still refusing to look at Alexander.

"I've had a friend staying with me. I told you about Hal," Alexander told him, wincing at how inane that sounded.

Finley frowned and cut in before Alexander could find the words to continue. It stung. "So are you ashamed of me now or something?"

"No! Fin, of course I'm not. The only thing I've got to be ashamed of is how I treated you," Alexander replied.

"Fine. So why didn't you want him to know about me then?" Finley asked.

"He does know about you. It's not that I didn't want him to meet you, more that I didn't want you to meet him. Hal is..." Alexander struggled for the right word. "He can be naturally very curious in a tactless manner."

Finley almost laughed. "You know too many nosy people."

Alexander chuckled humourlessly. "Yeah, well, Hal is a great guy and a great doctor but he's stubborn too. When he gets an idea in his head, it's rather difficult to dissuade him."

"Does he think I'm a gold digger, too, then?" Finley asked, bitterness flavouring his voice again.

"No, he wants me to go back like he is," Alexander replied gently. "And he would have had no trouble using you to try and guilt me into it. He's like that. The end's justifies the means if he thinks the end is a worthy enough cause. Isabel managed to get a word or two in about what she thought but Hal ignored it and listened to what I told him about you."

"Lovely, this just gets better and better, doesn't it?" Finley mumbled.

"Isabel was around because of Hal. She's had a crush on him for ages, and she won't be around for a long while," Alexander told him. "She's gone to France for awhile because she's decided she wants to learn French."

Finley blinked at that. "Must be nice."

"Fin." Alexander reached out and touched his hand. Finley met his eyes for a moment and Alexander saw the chasm of hurt there before Finley looked away, drawing his hand against his chest as he did.

"Fin, I didn't keep you away from them because of you, I kept you away from them because of them," Alexander told him. "Hal wanted to met you once I told him about you. I said no. Half the time he was talking about his cases, partly because he was trying to get me back and partly because that is his life. It is gruesome, often, and I didn't think you needed to hear about it. I wanted to protect you from it."

"That should infuriate me," Finley said, still looking away but his voice wasn't as sharp. "It doesn't. Not... wanting to protect me. I understand that at least but, fuck, you didn't even tell me why you weren't around or why you didn't call or where you were ever. I didn't even know your friend was here."

Finley looked at him sharply. "And you're not telling me everything now either."

"No, I'm not," Alexander admitted. "But only because I haven't had the chance yet. I promise. I wanted to tell you about Hal and Isabel being around first. That's where I fucked up the most, I think."

"Fine," Finley's voice was wary but not openly hostile. "Why didn't you tell me Hal was here?"

"Would you have wanted to meet him?" Alexander asked. Finley didn't answer, but they both knew the answer was yes. "Would you have insisted on meeting him?"

'Would I have been able to say no to you?' Alexander asked himself silently.

Finley frowned. "Fine. I... I don't know if I forgive you for that but I understand it, sort of. Not entirely though. What else?"

"Well, this was supposed to be a surprise," Alexander told him. "I guess it still is. I've taken a leave of absence. An indefinite one."

Finley stared. "What?"

"I've been thinking about it for awhile. I always had a sketchy idea to open up my own clinic..." Alexander shrugged. "Getting that done takes a long time. Getting the leave takes time. I wanted it to be a surprise which meant not telling you, not until everything for the leave was finalized."

"Oh," Finley managed, blushing slightly. He looked away. "So when is your clinic opening then?"

Alexander shrugged. "No idea. I've looked into it. I haven't started anything yet."

"Why not?" Finley asked, clearly puzzled.

"I wanted some time off first," Alexander told him. He laughed suddenly. "I wanted to be able to spend some time with you, maybe get some of that travelling done."

Finley's head sank, his shoulder's slumping forward. He pressed a hand to his forehead. Alexander reached for his hand again and this time Finley didn't pull away.

"Fin," Alexander said quietly, hating to bring it up but knowing he had to. "There's something else too."

Finley rubbed his hand over his eyes and looked cautiously at Alexander. "What?"

"I've been having dreams lately, since just after I met you actually, really weird ones," Alexander said. Finley's eyes widened just slightly. "Yeah, those kinda dreams. The ones that make no sense but... do somehow."

"Okay," Finley said. "And?"

"And I decided to figure out why," Alexander told him. "So I've been doing some research."

"You didn't think to tell me that?" Finley asked, anger colouring his voice. "Damnit, Alex, you didn't think maybe that would be important to me?"

"I did, which is why I didn't tell you," Alexander replied. "I didn't want to tell you and have it be nothing. I haven't found anything certain yet as it is and some of what I found I know is complete garbage. I didn't think you needed the disappointment."

"I know I'm fucked up but I can think for myself," Finley pointed out. He actually smiled for a moment. "If you keep trying to protect me you're going to end up killing me."

Alexander didn't laugh. The comment actually made him feel a bit sick. Finley sighed and slumped back, looking at him.

"What did you find out?" Finley asked.

Alexander shook his head. "I have notes and stuff at home. I didn't bring them with me. I didn't really bring anything with me, I just came. I'd rather wait until I could show you what I've found. It'd make more sense."

Finley sighed but nodded. "Fine."

There was silence as they looked at each other.

"So what now?" Finley wondered.

"What do you want?" Alexander asked.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Finley exclaimed. "Both you and Ben both go out of your way to protect me, or whatever, which, yes is screwed up but so am I and now everything is up to me which is not the best idea, you know. Isn't there some kind of happy medium? Why does everything involving me have to be an extreme?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "What do you want? Tell me that, at least. Do you want to get back together? Do you think we should or is this just going to happen again?"

"Before I got here I didn't know we had broken up," Alexander told him. "I wouldn't sit on your brother's porch for five days if I didn't want to fix this. I love you."

"Why did you do it then?" Finley asked. "Why, when I wanted to know what was going on, did you tell me to go away? Okay, so your friend Hal was there and you thought he'd hurt me or something, fine, but, Jesus, you hurt me! You were just... just mean about it."

Alexander flinched. "I know. I have no excuse for that. Hal was there, yes, and so was Isabel but I was frustrated and was short with you because of that. All I can say is I'm sorry."

Finley sighed. He wished Alexander had an excuse, something, but he was only human, after all. "This would be easier if I didn't love you."

Alexander felt a bit better at those words.

"Whatever you want, Fin, I'll do. I'll sit on your brother's porch or fuck off and leave you alone until you're ready to talk to me or stay right here if you want me to," Alexander told him. "I fucked up. I'm sorry. I'll do whatever I have to to make it up to you because I don't want to lose you."

Finley closed his eyes and released a shaky breath. "I don't think I've forgiven you yet."

Alexander tensed.

"That doesn't mean I won't though," Finley opened his eyes, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "I should want to never see you again but I don't. I don't want to lose you either."

"I'm glad," Alexander murmured.

"I'm not going any where for a few more days though," Finley told him. "I'm tired and... I think I need Ben around right now but... I'm tired."

"Okay, Fin," Alexander said. "Do you want me to stay?"

Finley shook his head. "No... But, don't leave. Not too far. Go... rent a hotel room or something so you can get off my brother's porch. I... We still need to talk more but... Later. Tonight or maybe... maybe tomorrow."

"Okay," Alexander agreed. He hesitated, then swiftly leaned forward and brushed his lips against Finley's cheek.

Finley blinked and drew his knees up as Alexander left, hurrying up the stairs to get Ben. Finley pushed his head down, feeling the hard press of his knees against his forehead.

He heard the creak of footsteps coming down the stairs moments later but didn't look up until he heard his name.

"Fin?"

Finley glanced and reached out for his brother and Ben was there, solid and safe and warm. Finley sighed shakily and pressed his face against Ben's neck as his brother rubbed his back.

"I'm tired," he murmured against Ben's neck, feeling small in his brother's arms.

"That's because you hardly slept last night," Ben told him quietly. "That's not good for you, eh? Think you can try to take a nap now for awhile?"

Finley nodded slowly, remaining passive against him. "Okay."

* * *

**Evereven: No worries! Just do it more often in the future, eh? Reviews are this girl's best friend. Yeah, I know that joke is getting old. Glad to make your day! Finley...Yeah, he's very self-conscious about the whiny/clinging thing. And I love Ben and Alex and basically everyone. I even have a soft spot for Izzie if you can believe it!**

**athelas63: Yeah, I love Ben. I've got a problem with him though 'cuz I don't know what's going to happen to him later on. I mean, I've got no LotR character I can pair him up with so...maybe I should start hosting audtions for the part of his love interest, eh? How do you think the meeting went? There is more to Alex's absense that he touched upon briefly but he rightfully saved that for another day. Fin's got to process one thing first!**

**Someone Stupid: How'd he do? Fin's strong he's just...messed up which makes things difficult. I'm glad you like the story so much. Updates are going to have to stick to about every 2 weeks, and within the next month or so they might be even farther between, because I have school and all my exams and essays are due NOW. Then I have to start covering the volleyball again so...It's going to have to stick at two weeks for awhile yet. Sorry!**

**Kasmi Kassim: Thank you!**

**PrincessFaz: He's actually only been sick for about a week. That's just update time getting in the way of story time. Sorry! Is that enough Fin for you? Ben's not really mad, just concerned. **

**LadyJanelly: Thank you! Updates come every 2 weeks or so and I adore feedback!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Author's Note: **Thanks as always to Mandi who is super-dee-duper. More notes at that bottom.

**Chapter 10**

"Damnit," Ben muttered, kicking the wall because it was in his way. "Damnit."

"I know how to take care of him Ben," Alexander assured him. "He'll be fine."

Ben glared. "That's not comforting, you know."

"I know, but it's all I've got," Alexander said, smiling grimly.

"He shouldn't have had another one this soon, it hasn't even been a week yet," Ben muttered.

"He's tired and he's sick and he's stressed," Alexander said with a calmness he didn't feel but thought Ben needed to. "It will be alright."

Ben heaved a sigh. "Fine. Fine. It's not like I have a choice, is it? Leave's over. I can't take more time off right now."

He paused. "You know, when Fin first came home I thought of quitting and asking my uncle for money so I could take care of him. Do it properly. Maybe I should have done it right then when he came home. Maybe things... I don't know. Never mind. Fuck."

Alexander didn't say anything, didn't know what he could say. He knew how much it embarrassed Finley, not having money, had guessed how proud Ben was. He understood why Ben hadn't asked.

Ben grinned without joy. His eyes were very sad as he looked at Alexander. "You'll call if anything happens."

"Of course," Alexander replied to the non-question.

Ben sighed again, nodded and reluctantly went off, closing the front door behind him. Alexander shook his head somewhat sadly and went downstairs, back to Finley.

Finley was curled up on his side making a very low pitched moaning noise. He could be medicated again in about an hour but until then he was stuck with the pain.

He moved, just slightly, when Alexander touched him. A flicker of muscles, a shift of his head as the cold cloth over his eyes was replaced. He didn't open his eyes.

"Shh, Fin," Alexander murmured. "Just me. Keep still."

Finley made a snuffling noise and reached a few inches to curl his fingers in Alexander's jeans. Alexander moved closer so Finley's head rested against his leg and he could touch him without much of a stretch.

Finley moaned. Alexander hesitated then began gently stroking his hair. At that point, Alexander thought, Finley just wanted to know he wasn't alone.

Finley never opened his eyes, not even when Alexander helped him sit enough to swallow the pill that gave him some relief. His fingers remained curled in the cuff of Alexander's jeans until they went limp as he sank into unconsciousness.

Alexander stayed with him until Finley was well and truly out before untangling himself and quietly staggering away to stamp his leg awake again. He paced, away from Finley, making as little noise as possible despite the fact Finley wouldn't awaken for hours.

Yesterday he had spent half a day there, sitting with Finley, not touching him, watching him shy away as they tried to figure things out. They were getting there, neither of them wanted to let this, their relationship, go, but they weren't there yet.

Then Ben had called him early that morning, before dawn, even. Finley was down for the count, felled by one of the headaches that liked to blindside him, and Ben had to go back to the base. Leaving Finley alone wasn't an option either of them considered.

Holding him, trying to comfort him when he was largely insensible was trying because when the headache passed Finley would very likely push him away again. They were trying to get comfortable with each other again but with Finley it was never easy. Alexander hadn't realized how much damage had been done until the first time Finley flinched at his touch, like he did with anyone he was uneasy with.

So he paced and wandered upstairs and stared without comprehension as the television blared and Finley drifted in a drug induced slumber. Alexander's thoughts trailed slowly into multiple directions and day time television wasn't actually something that could hold his attention.

He browsed Ben's video collection. The latest selection from Blockbuster... well, he had no real desire to see any of the drivel that most of it appeared to be. The movies they owned, what he hadn't seen already, didn't really interest...

Fin's b-day.

Ben's neat printing. Finley had chicken scratch scrawl, Ben was neat and concise. Alexander hesitated but Ben had mentioned he had been trying to find video of them at their uncle's when they were kids. Finley had asked about it and Alexander suddenly found he really wanted to see what Finley had been like as a child so...

* * *

Finley leaned heavily on Ben's supporting arms as he shuffled into the room, dressed in black sweat pants and a loose fitting sweater. Ben led him, walking backwards and supporting him under the armpits, a grin splitting his face, eyes on his brother. Finley flushed dully as the occupants of the little room, mostly army guys, clapped and whistled. The flush was the only hint of colour on his gaunt face.

Ben helped ease him into the upright recliner, extra pillows cushioning his too thin body. He winced as Ben settled him there. The broad soldier leaned forward, speaking something that wasn't picked up, hiding Finley from view for a moment. Finley was nodding when Ben backed away and he smiled just slightly.

The lights were not turned off as the cake was brought in. It was ice cream and it was melting under the candles.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..."

Finley's white face was briefly illuminated in a red orange glow from the candles. There was a flicker of something in his eyes...

"...dear Finley, happy birthday to you!"

Ben helped him to blow out the candles. Finley smiled up at his big brother as Ben started passing the cake around.

Finley's piece looked like a mouse had nibbled it when it was set aside.

Ben had to help as Finley started to unwrap the presents. His hands were shaking so badly he had too much trouble with the paper. The present's were small, mostly, from people on base. Ben and Irving's were set aside for later, they were trying to spoil Finley a bit and his father's were noticeably absent because they didn't exist.

Finley's face was slowly becoming more and more strained until finally his thin fingers caught Ben's wrist. Ben bent close and there was the hushed murmur of words.

Ben bent to gather Finley up...

A hand came in front of the lens. Someone muttered, "How do you turn the fucking camera off?" There was a jostle...

Static.

* * *

Alexander was with Finley when Ben got home. The morning's medication had worn off and the pain hadn't lessened.

Finley had his head in Alexander's lap and Alexander was rubbing his temples in a slow rhythm. Finley's eyes were closed and his body twitched in discomfort every few moments, jarring his otherwise disconcerting stillness.

Ben made no noise as he edged to Finley's side and took his hands, rubbing them gently. Finley opened bleary eyes for a moment or two, tried to focus, and gave him a moan of greeting. Together they managed to get him through the pain until he could swallow the pill that brought him relief and slid him into a welcome stupor.

Ben sat back with a sigh. He was unused to dealing with this constantly now, had forgotten how it wore you down. He looked at his brother's lover. Alexander was stroking the tiny wisps of hair back from Finley's temples.

"I'm taking him to the doctor if it's still like this tomorrow," Ben told him. How the hell had he ever dealt with the three day headaches Finley had frequently then, still occasionally had?

"I'm not disagreeing," Alexander said. He leaned back and looked carefully at Ben. "I need you to tell me what Finley's injuries were when he came back."

"Need me to?" Ben questioned, a dangerous edge in his voice.

"Yeah, need," Alexander replied. "We've talked a little before about what it did to him psychologically, he's told me bits of what was done, but never what his injuries were. It never came up and now I think it's important."

Ben sat back and looked carefully at Alexander, who straightened under his gaze. "Let's go upstairs."

Ben scrubbed a face over his hand and suddenly looked very weary. "I need a beer for this."

"So do I, I think," Alexander agreed.

Ben looked sharply at him but shrugged as Alexander went to grab them both a brew. His eyes fell on the video sitting on top of the television. He picked it up as Alexander rejoined him.

"This why you want to know?" Ben asked, holding the tape up.

"Partly," Alexander answered, passing Ben the open beer as he put the tape down. "But I need to know anyway. I thought that tape was the one you were going to leave out for Fin."

"Couldn't find that one," Ben shrugged. "So what do you want to know?"

"Injuries to start. How he was wounded, what was wrong with him," Alexander replied, his voice taking on a clinical edge.

"The whole list?" Ben clarified.

"The whole list," Alexander answered.

Ben sighed, "Where to start."

He sat there for a moment in silence, his eyes distant as he began. "They broke his toes. All of them and two bones in his right foot. His shoulder was dislocated and his hands had been caned, or something similar, several times. He didn't have all his finger nails. There were deep cuts, mostly on his back but in other areas as well, I'm sure you've noticed the scars. They were badly infected when he was found. His ribs were severely bruised. He was bruised everywhere, bruised and scraped and burned. He was malnourished to the point where we thought there was a good chance..."

* * *

"...that we will still lose him. So you should be prepared," the doctor said. "I'm sorry."

Ben nodded numbly. He felt cold and his hands felt heavy. He had been expecting this since before he got on the plane to Germany, to his little brother. They couldn't risk flying him to the States yet, it was too far to go. "Can I see him?"

"Yes, but he isn't awake and I don't expect him to be for a few more days," the doctor told him, omitting the ominously cliched words of if he wakes at all.

"I was told he had been awake and talking," Ben commented numbly.

The doctor hesitated, looking uncomfortable. "He was... continuously reciting his name and registration number when a question or comment was directed at him when he was found. He did not seem to understand what was being said and that repetition was all he would say."

Ben rubbed a hand over his forehead, feeling nauseous. "Is there brain damage?"

"We don't know. We won't until he wake up," again there was a hesitation. "But since we sedated him he hasn't been responsive to anything and with the evidence of head trauma there it is, unfortunately, very likely he will not be the same when he wakes up."

Ben thought of his serious, quiet little brother. Brought to mind his laugh and pictured his easy way with his men and his smile and the focus in his brimming grey eyes as he studied something. Thought of his quiet confidence and the way it clashed so pleasantly with his own loud manners and his often gently teasing eloquence and of all his little brother was.

He thought of all of that gone and shivered from the cold welling up inside him.

When he finally got to see his little brother, it hurt to look at him. Somewhere inside the mass of monitors and casts and bandages was his Finley, so slight he seemed hardly there at all.

Ben found a spot of skin that seemed to be the one unmarked inch of his body. Just a scrap of skin on his forearm, four fingers long. He touched there, gently.

Finley's skin was cold and its shade against Ben's tanned fingers painted a bleak picture of how very pale he was. Ben felt tears prick at his eyes. He wanted badly to hug Finley close but couldn't. He was so scared to even touch the scant stretch of unmarred flesh.

He could feel the lump rising from his stomach as he looked at his brother's face. Corpse like, blue tinged against stark white bandages with little black stitches sticking up prickling from his skin.

Ben swallowed, unable to look away. The dark hair was lank, matted and greasy where it could be seen from under the long white strips of bandages and there were clumps missing. Whether they had fallen out because Finley had been starved or because he had been pumped with hallucinogenics or because it had been torn out Ben didn't know.

But there were clumps of Finley's hair missing.

Ben didn't know how he got from Finley's side to the bathroom down his hall, just knew he puked and puked until he felt like he had thrown up everything he had even thought about eating since Finley had gone MIA.

* * *

"The doctors were good. They were great. If anything of a dozen little things had been done differently, if anything had been done slightly wrong we would have lost him," Ben told Alexander. "We came so fucking close to losing him..."

Ben trailed off and scrubbed a hand over his face. He didn't examine those memories too closely, too often. It still hurt too much and the wound had been given years to heal without much improvement.

Alexander grabbed his hand suddenly, held it, and said nothing. Ben was startled, thought about pulling away but... didn't.

"He did wake up, obviously," Ben continued. "And there was mild brain damage, but we were lucky in that way. The drugs they had him doped up on when he was missing fucked with his brain chemistry enough."

"I know, he told me about that," Alexander interjected quietly. Finley took medication to correct the damage but there were still side effects from it.

Ben nodded. "He's healed physically better than anyone expected but the scars are still there and there are still effects from the damage done to his brain."

"The headaches might be because of that or it might be psychological or both or something else entirely. He was not effected by them before he was captured. There were... seizures too, at first, but the medication controls them. He hasn't had one in a couple years now," Ben sighed. "We were scared they would find a brain tumour or something for awhile. They haven't figured out what causes them, exactly, but it probably isn't going to kill him. They do tests every year for stuff like that. They do a whole case review on him every year. He just loves that."

"And he goes to the psychiatrist once a month," Alexander added. He frowned suddenly. "Psychologist or psychiatrist?"

Ben blinked. "There's a difference?"

"Yeah," Alexander told him, feeling like an ass for not knowing. "Fin always says his shrink. I should've found out before."

"Our uncle always did the investigating when it came to that stuff," Ben said. "I can't imagine he wouldn't investigate every possibility. Fin's probably been to both."

"Why was your uncle the one to check that stuff out?" Alexander asked.

"He knew what he was doing," Ben said. "I didn't. Fin was in no condition to."

"What about your father?" Alexander asked. "Finley doesn't speak about him. He told me how he died, that he wasn't supportive, but I got the impression that Finley was living with him then."

"He did and I should never have let him. I should have taken him to live with my uncle instead of having him back with our father," Ben said, his expression dark with anger. "I imagine at one point he must've been an okay guy, my mother always said he had changed by the time he left the army, wasn't the man she had first fallen in love with, but we never saw that man."

"I was living in a one bedroom apartment. It was very small and I wasn't there all day. Father was normally home but for all the attention he gave Fin he may as well not have been." Ben shrugged. "He gave Finley his medication on time, remembered to feed him. That was about it."

Ben shook his head. "And he couldn't always be counted on even for that."

* * *

He got the phone call on the base. He was supposed to be staying overnight, running drills, whipping recruits into shape. Everyone at the base knew about Finley, had since before he first came home a few months ago. No one talked about it but everyone knew.

As such, leeway was available.

So when Ben heard his brother's voice, smaller now somehow and always haunted and distant, he knew it was not an option to stay even before he knew what was wrong.

"What happened?" Ben asked.

"He's gone," Finley told him. "Since this morning, before I woke up."

"Who? Father?" Ben questioned.

"Yeah," Finley replied in what Ben thought was far too quiet a voice.

"Well, where the fuck is he?" Ben demanded.

"Don't know." And Ben swore at the tone of Finley's voice.

"I'm not mad at you, Fin," Ben told him, making sure to keep his voice gentle.

"I know," Finley said but Ben knew he hadn't.

"I'm coming to get you now, okay?" Ben told him.

"Sorry," Finley murmured.

"No, Fin, it's not your fault," Ben told him. "This isn't in your control."

"Right, sorry," Finley whispered.

Ben felt sick. "I'll be there soon, Fin, I'm coming."

"Okay," Finley replied.

Ben hung up without saying goodbye, regretted not saying goodbye. He shook his head, nothing to do about it, just needed to go pick up his brother.

The words, "Fin's in trouble," got him out of nearly anything when said to the right people. He was off the base within half an hour, heading to his father's tiny house.

There were no lights on and Ben understood, suddenly, why Finley had called then, though he had been alone all day. The sun was setting and he wasn't comfortable in the dark yet. He slept, when he slept at all, with all the lights on. Ben was trying to wean him down to a night light but he had to make sure he didn't push too hard too fast. He was terrified of pushing Finley too far and causing some sort of breakdown.

"Fin?" Ben called as he entered the too still house.

"Here," Finley's voice came, hoarsely, and Ben could hear the weariness in it.

Ben all but ran down the hall. Finley was in the bathroom, leaning uncomfortably against the tub, still in the old cut off sweat pants and sweater he always wore to bed now. The pants were on oddly and Ben spotted the small stain on them. He kept the curses he wanted to utter in, it would only embarrass Finley to draw attention to it. He had tried to get to the toilet, despite the pain it would've caused him to get to the bathroom, and he had been mostly successful.

Finley looked away from his brother. His face was flushed an ugly red from frustration and embarrassment. Ben felt like punching someone.

"Ah, shit, Fin," Ben murmured, kneeling beside him immediately.

"Sorry," Finley whispered.

"Not your fault. There's nothing you've got to be sorry for," Ben told him.

"Right, sorry," Finley agreed.

Ben felt like throwing up. It wasn't funny. God, it wasn't funny.

Ben put an arm across Finley's back and under his knees, against the plaster of the casts. Finley couldn't walk yet. Wouldn't be able to for awhile, he still had physiotherapy to face when the casts came off in a couple weeks. They had to rebreak his toes to reset them after he'd been rescued because they had begun healing improperly.

Even with the added weight of those casts Ben carried him easily. He'd gained weight since he had been home but he was still too thin.

Finley gave a low moan and tensed as Ben picked him up, careful of his arm which should have been in a sling and wasn't. He remembered Finley had said their father had been gone since before he woke up, and Finley always woke early. He'd have missed all of the day's medications.

Ben supposed he should be glad there were no bandages to be changed anymore. Putting Finley down on the bed, feeling the shudder that passed through him, Ben couldn't feel thankful for much of anything.

As he went to get the medications, he realized that Finley wouldn't have eaten anything either and swore. Most of the medications needed to be taken with food.

Ben decided to just get him out of there.

He threw Finley's stuff together quickly and went to chuck it into the car, but as soon as he opened the door he heard Finley call, "Ben!"

"Fin, it's okay, I'm only going to put your stuff in the car. I'll be right back to help you downstairs," Ben told him, hearing and seeing the sudden panic.

"Okay," Finley whispered but he was shaking horribly and Ben knew he couldn't leave him alone in that house again.

As he settled Finley into the car he noticed his free hand was clenched tightly and his lips were bloodless. He was in pain then. Ben paused and took the time to stroke the short hair back from Finley's face, frowning because it felt greasy and Finley couldn't stand that. The thought made Ben shudder too.

Ben's face was set in a grim mask as he went back upstairs to grab the bags. So there was a lot he should have noticed and hadn't in the past few weeks. There was nothing for it, he could only try to make it up to him.

They drove in silence. Finley had not stopped shaking. Ben didn't think he could stop.

Ben got Finley settled in his apartment, on the couch first, but knew he was giving his bed to Finley later. He fed him and got him to swallow his medications. The pills made him drowsy, forcing him to relax so that Ben could leave long enough to get a bath ready.

Bathing Finley was difficult. His casts had to be kept dry and it wasn't a good idea to get his sling wet either. Ben could manage that with a few garbage bags and by keeping them elevated on the sides of the tub.

But Finley didn't like being naked, either, or being touched, and could hardly stand the two together. Ben could get away with more than anyone but still had to be very careful when dealing with Finley. He didn't want to be the cause of any more set backs. The medications seemed to have made Finley relaxed enough to be limp and trusting as Ben lowered him into the warm, shallow water. His eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow, shallower than Ben liked but he couldn't have everything.

Ben washed him gently, carefully, trying to be the least threatening he could. Still vivid were the first days after Finley regained coherence, when every touch brought a flinch and Ben had to be so slow and careful with him it made him shake. It was normally, he had been told, but that didn't make him feel any better.

Finley didn't seem to react this time. Ben put it down to the drugs that were kicking in and took the time to wash his hair.

As he moved to get Finley out of the bath tub grey eyes flew open suddenly and Finley's breathing hitched. "Ben..."

"Shit!" Ben hauled him up and out of the bathtub and in front of the toilet just in time for Finley to throw up in it.

Holding Finley up he grabbed at a towel to try and dry him off and warm him up. It was awkward with Finley shaking and crying and dry heaving over the toilet. He managed to get him covered, folding him into a robe, one that their uncle had sent him a few years ago that had always hung on the back of the door but that he had never worn.

It served then, as he held his shaking little brother awkwardly against him, trying to get him to calm again, wondering what exactly had triggered the sudden reaction and knowing it was likely a combination of several things. It happened, he just needed to get Finley calm and settled again when it did.

And he did calm, eventually, trying to hold on to Ben and having trouble because of his hands, because he was still weak. Ben helped him rinse his mouth out and got him dressed and into bed again. He stayed with him until he slept, talking to him, thinking about how he had been alone in the silent house all day and wondering what the hell he would do tomorrow.

When morning came, after too little sleep and too many nightmares, Ben took Finley to the base. There was nothing else for it. He knew Finley was uncomfortable being seen but they didn't have a lot of options.

Finley stayed in the infirmary while Ben worked. The doctors were good to him. He was one of their own, after all.

There was no sign of their father for four days. Ben checked, if nothing else he wanted to yell at him, take the tar out of him for doing this to Finley.

It was on the fifth day after his sudden disappearance that their father's beat up station wagon reappeared in his driveway. Ben spotted it on his way to pick up groceries and turned immediately into the driveway, feeling his face heat with rage.

Fucking bastard, that fucking bastard...

* * *

Alexander sat very still and in silence for longer than Ben could stand.

"Say something," he growled.

Alexander looked at him and shrugged. "I can't find adequate words for that."

"Yeah, well." Ben ran a hand through his hair. "Finley never went back to live with him. He stayed with me. Eventually our uncle helped me get a bigger apartment and about two years later Finley moved out. He lived in the same building, for a while. Then a little further away, then where he does now. He needed that independence, after a while. Our uncle helped a lot."

"It was less than three months after that we found him dead. He called one day, asking both of us to come over. We swung by after Fin's physiotherapy appointment and that was the end of that," Ben said humourlessly.

Alexander shifted but didn't comment on that sentiment. "What happened when you confronted him?"

"He was an apathetic ass about it. Starting sprouting off some bullshit about dealing with it like a man. No trace of sympathy. I got really angry and decked him, broke his nose," Ben shuddered. "He laughed. You could tell his nose was broken and he started to laugh. It was... fucking creepy. I left, didn't go back until that day he called and asked. I had better things to worry about. I had Fin to look after."

* * *

**Someone Stupid: **I'm not sure Fin has enough left to do a display like that, not yet, at least. Denethor isn't very involved in this story. Which reminds me, Finley's father is not, strictly speaking, Denethor. and it'll be more explained later but, yeah, I don't do evil!Denethor in the same way but Fin and Ben's father, yeah, he was just fucked.

**Hopeless Delirium: **Fin's unsure of himself and he won't ever really go against Ben, but he isn't that beaten down, not by more than he thinks!

**LadyJanelly: **Sorry only makes everything alright when the problem is a small one and Finley is a very wary guy. Alexander, yeah, there will be more on the "mistakes" and why he did what he did soon because there's another big reason that they haven't discussed in detail. Ben IS cool. I want one for myself!

**Seadragon: **I just want to hug Finley all the time. Alexander will make things right or the author will figure out something horrible to do to him. Actually, Alexander will make things right, but so will Finley, in a way, or at least that's what I'm hoping.

**LadyBush: **They're together, they're just not entirely sure of themselves yet. Normally I wouldn't be giving away that much of the story BUT I'll make an exception in this case. Ben will die, because we all die, but he won't be doing it in this story. I don't have the heart to do that and if Ben died Finley wouldn't be around anymore. He might just not be able to handle it and even if he could there would be outside intervention by another family member and Finley would no longer be living in the States and thus no story. So no Ben deaths in this story!


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Author's Note: To celebrate the fact I actually managed to complete my essay this is being posted early. YAY! There may or may not be a chapter posted Monday, if not the next chapter will be posted around the 22nd. **

**Thanks so much for all the awesome reviews! I get the feeling some people were hoping for more flashbacks. There will be those but the best way to sum up this chapter is: And now for something completely different! ...Minus John Cleese in a bikini, of course. **

**Chapter 11**

Finley glanced over at Alexander as they stopped at the lights, caught him glancing at him and watched as Alexander looked away quickly and blushed. That felt...odd. Wasn't right.

Of course, right could bite him in the ass at this point and he wouldn't know it.

He knew he shouldn't be this tired all the time. He'd been sleeping for two weeks, why the hell was he so tired all the time?

Emotional exhaustion. Hopefully that's all it was but he knew Ben and Alexander were worried about it. He thought it was just him burning out emotionally again but doing it in a less spectacular fashion this time made Ben think there was something physically wrong with him.

Hell, there might be. Three headaches in under two weeks. That didn't happen often. Could mean something was up in his head, could mean he'd just been exceedingly stressed the past two weeks. He was scheduled for an MRI, better safe then sorry, after all, he was just too tired to be worried about it. Should be more worried, just wasn't.

Alexander was worried. Finley knew that. He wasn't hiding the fact that he was watching Finley closely, well, not hiding it much. He didn't like being caught staring but that was it.

They hadn't spoken much on the car ride back home and...huh, the word felt funny to Finley, home. He didn't dwell on it but knew he didn't want to go to his apartment. Didn't much want to go to Alexander's either. Didn't know what he wanted really. Maybe he should have tried talking to Alexander instead of dozing most of the way home.

Finley felt Alexander's eyes on him again and met his gaze briefly before the light changed and they turned back to the road. Finley hunched down a little more in his seat. "You're going to call me a dozen times tonight, aren't you?"

"Probably," Alexander admitted. "And, yeah, I'll probably rush over if you don't answer."

Finley smiled faintly and shook his head which was, thankfully, not aching. "Let's go to your house then."

"What?"

"Your house. You'll find some reason to stay over, even if it's just to sleep on my couch and, as Ben can tell you, that's not very comfortable. Let's just go to your house," Finley replied.

Alexander said nothing, kept driving. He'd have to turn the car around if they were going to his house. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Finley replied, refraining from adding, Just don't push me. He couldn't do that and Alexander wouldn't do that.

They didn't speak as they drove to Alexander's. Several times Finley thought Alexander was going to try and start a conversation but he never did, always stopped at the last second. Finley left his bag in the car. He had stuff inside already.

"Are you hungry?" Alexander asked as they stood unsurely in the front hall. "I can make dinner."

He wasn't hungry but he knew he had to eat anyway. He'd lost weight he couldn't afford to and knew how worried his brother was.

"Sure," he answered, flipping off his shoes and shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

"Is there anything in particular you want?" Alexander asked.

"S'okay," Finley replied, shaking his head.

Alexander suppressed a sigh. Finley followed him into the kitchen and sat on a stool as Alexander puttered and clanged about. He traced the patterns on the counter top, wondering what to say until Alexander put a bowl of cream soup in front of him.

"Thanks," Finley said, smiling faintly.

Alexander nodded, cutting up bread. Finley raised an eyebrow at him. It was fresh. They hadn't stopped on the way back.

"Evan was good enough to pick a few things up for me when I called him and said I was coming home," Alexander replied. "Your fridge is stocked too, and probably better than mine. I got a rather forceful lecture from him as well."

Finley frowned. "Why?"

"They were worried about you," Alexander told him. "Annie left dozens of messages on my cell phone. They're all pissed at me."

"Oh," Finley murmured, toying with his spoon.

"I didn't tell them anything, well, not much. Annie figured something was wrong," Alexander explained. "And when she called me on it I told her it was my fault but wouldn't explain further. They're mad on your behalf."

Finley's frown deepened.

"Fin," Alexander said, catching his eyes. "For the most part my family loves you. Annie is convinced you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Hell, even Danny thinks you're a good thing and he hasn't met you yet, he's just going by what my parents have been telling him. I've even gotten a message from him asking me what the hell I think I'm doing."

Finley shifted uncomfortably. "They're not all going to, you know, converge here, are they?"

"No. I told them not to or else Annie and Evan would have been here at least. Annie left to join Eve on tour a few days ago, though, and Evan is away on business. He flew to Texas this morning," Alexander told him.

Finley grinned a bit. "So they would except they're out of town so they can't."

"Exactly. Neither of them have listened to me since they passed the age of five and Annie didn't before then," Alexander returned the smile.

Finley smiled, eyes down. He swirled the soup with the spoon, took another mouthful somehow without a grimace. He'd eaten half and wasn't sure he could stomach anymore.

He winced but managed not to jerk away when Alexander's fingers rested lightly on his arm. He looked up into concerned grey eyes. "You don't have to eat more than you want to, Fin."

Finley shook his head slowly. "I know you and Ben are worried and Ben's probably called uncle by now..."

"It's better if you don't force yourself to eat more than you can," Alexander told him gently. "You'll be less likely to be sick that way. If you're hungry later, or even if you think you can stand to eat something more later, you can always get it or I can always make you something else, okay?"

"Thanks," Finley said, letting the spoon drop into the bowl with a clunk. He hated not being able to finish meals and sitting their toying with his food. It made him feel like a child.

Alexander cleared the dishes without a word. He was all but finished anyway, though Finley heard him put a piece of bread in the toaster before the clatter of dishes going into the dishwasher sounded. It popped up a minute or so later and Finley heard him munching on it as the water ran, sluicing over the bowls before they went in. He folded his arms on the table and put his head down on them.

Alexander touched his hair gently as he rejoined him. Finley's turned his head to the side and looked at him with a nearly timid smile.

"Fin?" Alexander asked, worried.

"I'm okay," Finley told him.

Alexander frowned but didn't argue, kept stroking his hair instead. "You want to go veg on the couch? Watch TV or a movie or something?"

Finley nodded, pushing his arms out, stretching, before getting up. "Sure."

* * *

Finley used the guest bedroom. Alexander changed the sheets while Finley showered. They hadn't been changed, the bed hadn't even been made, since Hal had stayed over. He hated that Finley wasn't sleeping with him but he'd have hated it more if Finley had gone home.

He got why Finley didn't want to share a bed with him yet but it hurt having him so close. On the other hand, with the frequency of the damn headaches lately... Alexander didn't want him by himself, neither did Ben. Alexander wanted Finley as close as he could get him anyway...

Alexander was absently smoothing out the creases on the cover when Finley came into the room, wearing an old t-shirt and sweat pants. Alexander's frown deepened but he didn't say anything. It was a defense of Finley's, and in this case the easiest way to handle it was by not making a big deal out of it. He'd shed the sweats when he was ready to.

They stood looking at each other for a few too long moments before Alexander managed to break the trance and walk forward. He was encouraged when Finley didn't shrink away from him. The grey eyes that met his were uncertain but there was love there still.

He cupped Finley's cheek with his palm, letting his thumb drift over the pale skin. Finley didn't look away. Alexander leaned forward and kissed him, gently, surprised and pleased when Finley kissed back, if with more hesitation than normal.

Alexander pulled away first, but did so slowly and naturally, because he could feel Finley withdrawing. He embraced him firmly to cover any embarrassment on either of their parts. Finley squeezed back.

"I'm just down the hall," Alexander forced around the lump in his throat. "Don't hesitate if you need anything, okay?"

Finley nodded. "Night."

Alexander leaned forward again and pecked him on the cheek, breathing, "I love you." before turning reluctantly and leaving.

"Me too," Finley said to the empty room once he was gone.

* * *

Finley gasped, shooting up in the darkness. He ran a shaky hand over his face.

He'd been dreaming. They'd been getting bad and then... It was weird. It was like something, someone, had just grabbed him and yanked him out of it. But Finley knew it hadn't been an outside force. Knew it hadn't been.

Fuck, he didn't need to be questioning his sanity as well and now... Finley bit his lip. As much as he hated to admit it he was scared of going back to sleep.

He felt so desperate he thought for a moment he might cry. That he squashed ruthlessly but his feet hit the hardwood before he thought about it and he was padding down the hallway, looking at the partially opened bedroom door. He pushed it open a fraction more, winced as he heard it creak and saw movement inside.

"Alex?" Finley questioned from the door. He was still clutching a pillow. Somehow, Alexander found that faintly disturbing.

"Yes, Fin," Alexander replied, moving over.

Finley walked over hesitantly. Stood by the bed and stopped there. "You mind?"

"No," Alexander told him, he sat up and pulled back the covers. "Come on. It's okay."

Finley shifted, paused. "I can't...Touching...I...I'm sorry. This isn't fair to you."

"So? I don't care, at this point. You need to be here? That's okay. Your rules, Fin, I'll follow them," Alexander assured him.

Finley got in, curled up on his side. He was tense, shivering. Alexander wanted to hold him, comfort him, but knew that would just likely make things worse. He lay down again, watched Finley's bare back tremble.

Finley turned, just slightly, and grabbed Alexander's hand, holding it tight. Alexander moved a bit closer, just a bit, so that Finley could hold his hand against his chest, Alexander's arm lightly against his skin.

"I'm sorry," Finley murmured.

Alexander closed his eyes. He could hear the tears in his lover's voice. "Me too, Fin."

* * *

Finley shivered. It was early morning. The dew still sparkled on the grass like the twinkling reflections of a crystal chandelier. Mist hung about, patches of light seeping through like honey, golden and soft. Finley felt as if he were in a cloud.

Then he remembered that mist was a very low stratus cloud. Or was that fog? Both?

He couldn't see very far but he gathered he was in some sort of clearing in a forest. He could see farther up then down, which confused him, but the green honey glow cast by the light and fragile leaves was comforting.

He felt freshness here. He felt renewal.

"You are more alike to me than you shall think."

Finley whirled, tensed, raised his hands up in defense. Nothing happened for long moments. His heart beat began to slow.

A whicker sounded, the soft muffled sound of a hand against something larger, stronger. "Easy, mellon."

Finley found the courage to lower his arm, to catch of glimpse of...

What. The. Hell.

At first glance he was looking at himself. Himself with a horse, holding the reins. His double smiled very slightly at him, "Not quite, my friend."

Finley frowned, shook his head, looked again. No, the man, double, whatever was right. The hair was longer, the build more sturdy and his eyes... same colour, different depth to them, less and more somehow...

This was not him. This man had never broken, as he had; he was, Finley knew, the stronger of them.

The grey eyes softened with compassion. "Ah, but that is experience, little more, for we started out the same. Only the events of our lives have drawn us this far apart."

Finley started. "What are you? A mind reader?"

"Nay," the man laughed. "Though it has been wondered upon before."

"Then how the hell do you know what I'm thinking?" Finley demanded.

"Because I am you," the man replied.

Finley stared blankly, feeling suddenly as if he was drowning and the roar of water rushed through his ears as he was dragged down. His knees trembled, started to give way, and he was caught in a crushing embrace.

Oh God. Ohgodohgodohgod... the memories...

He gasped for air, screamed as it filled him and tried to tear himself away. He couldn't. He knew it even as he tried. He was sobbing, babbling nonsense, screaming until his throat felt like it would crack and bleed and he felt utterly, totally safe, as he had not since before... before he had been taken, tortured.

They were on their knees and Finley could not have let go had his life depended on it. His fists were clenched in waves of soft dark hair, his face tucked against a strong jaw. Somehow, someway, the man's cloak was wrapped around the both of them, binding them still tighter together, and his tunic felt soft against the exposed skin of Finley's arms.

And the horse had disappeared, or at least Finley thought it had.

"God," he muttered. "Oh God."

Fingers touched his hot face tenderly. A kiss pressed against his brow in benediction, penance, forgiveness. He trembled.

"Who are you?" Finley barely recognized his own voice.

"Do you really not know?" The man asked.

"Me, somehow," Finley breathed. "But not."

"Yes. I am Faramir. You are Finley. Different." Fingers stroked lightly over the soft hair at the back of his neck. Finley shuddered, lay limply in the strength. "Yet the same for we have but one fea, one soul."

"So you aren't real," Finley moaned and knew as the words slid from his lips they were false.

"I am real. You are real. This is real," Faramir told him. "Your memories, the ones you do not know you have, form me. They always will. We are too separate to be one in the same entirely."

Finley felt a tremendous sense of loss at those words. He made a desperate hiccupping whimper of a sound.

"Shh, I shall always be with you now," Faramir soothed. "Here, for now, until you remember fully in the waking world as well."

"I won't remember," Finley said, trembling harder at the thought.

"It is not yet time for you to," Faramir told him. "Soon. There are things that must be settled first."

A keening moan crawled up the back of Finley's throat and lodged itself there. Hands on his face ceased it, soothed it down into the depths of his stomach again.

"I loved him," Faramir said with quiet intensity so strong it could never be wavered. "I loved him as I did no one else."

Finley made a noise of disagreement. He remembered...

Faramir laughed and Finley found he loved the sound. He missed making it. "No, not in that way. Only one captured my heart in that way, and we were not shield mates as such, though she would not have disagreed with the expression. But still, I loved him, and as no other as no loves so great can be the same. The greatest loves have much in common but never are they the same."

"I can't..." Finley managed. "Not yet..."

"Shh, I know, I know," Faramir soothed. "There is nothing wrong with that. Give it time. It will come. He loves you as fiercely as you do him."

The arms tightened around him and the grey eyes quivered with joyful understanding. "For so long I did not realize such, but all things are clear now. You shall learn it too, in later days, but first you need rest, without dark dreams, and that I can give you tonight."

Fingers again, calloused, brushing over his eyelids, smudging the wetness that painted his lashes. A ghost of a sigh fluttered across his ear. "Rest."

And he was sinking, into warmth, into the honeyed mist patched with the green stained glass glow of newly unfurled leaves.

* * *

**athelas63: **Yeah, I actually make the effort not to think of what exactly they did to Fin while he was being tortured, just the aftermath. The aftermath is bad enough! There will be more discussion on Ben's protectiveness and all that later, this isn't the only flashback I'm going to have, and Alexander and Finley are finally doing what they should have since the beginning, talking. Okay, maybe not right from the beginning because the beginning was supposed to be a one night stand but, yeah, anyway.

**PrincessFAz: **Yeah, Fin had a rough time, eh? Gotta warn ya, it got worse before it got better but that's for later...Some stuff needs to be patched up/discovered first.

**LadyJanelly: **Ben and Fin's dad didn't suffer in death so much but he did actually suffer quite a bit in life. He was never a happy guy, certainly. I don't know when this'll come out in the story, or if it will, but from what I gather Denethor hates Ben and Fin's dad and thinks that he's cruel. And when you're parenting is labelled cruel by him...well, yeah. Enough said.

**Someone Stupid: **Eh, sometimes what I'm thinking about the story comes out in replies to comments just because that's the way my train of thought goes! My beta was basically hugging Fin throughout the whole damn story so far! I'm not sure why Fin didn't even attempt suicide. I think it's partly because of his father but even before then I don't think he considered it an option, I don't know why, exactly, but I have a few ideas.

**Catherine Maria: **The whole reincarnation thing really takes off from here. I have long since given up control of this story, I only do what the characters tell me so...They way they tell it there are different degrees to which a character merges with their past self and that is determined by a number of things which will be discussed later. It's odd, I know.

I don't think I could stomach going in to detail about Fin's torture. Ben knows quite a bit about what happened to him and Alex has heard a tiny bit but there's really only one person who ever heard close to the whole story but that's later.

Alex's personal crisis as it were, what kept him away from Fin the most, has actually only been mentioned in passing. Only one reviewer actually mentioned it which was what I was half-hoping for. Leaves people as confused as Fin! That's coming, I promise and, really, Alex did things the way he did because of Fin's problems and because of what he knows. If it had just been the one thing, it would have probably been okay; it was the combination with the other thing that killed him.

Great review, by the way, I love the long ones!

**Seadragon: **You were the only reviewer to remember the dreams! Bravo! They come into play...well, now, and more soon. There will also be more on Ben and Finley's relationship in a few chapters too.

**LadyBush:** Don't worry, I didn't take offence, and it wasn't an insensitive comment. I toyed with the idea than nixed it. That's why Ben is no longer deployed because if he was I probably wouldn't be able to help myself! I'm glad you like the story so much and hope you like the out of scheduale update!


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Warning! Warning! This is the unbeta'ed version of this chapter but I thought everyone might want something before Tuesday so...**

**Chapter 12**

"They've changed my prescription," Finley reported, sitting on the side of a river, dangling his feet into the cool water.

"I know," Faramir replied as he appeared out of the forest. He walked across the short stone bridge to sit beside Finley. For a moment, Finley wondered how he had known the other had arrived.

"Know all, see all type of guy, aren't you?" Finley muttered.

"You have an ill temperament today," Faramir observed.

"I should, I got switched to another fucking type of drug even though you're giving me these damned headaches," Finley told him, looking away.

"That you are in the process of remembering does increase the number of headaches, yes, but your prescription needed to be changed. Its efficiency was fading," Faramir replied. "The recent lethargy you have experienced is due to the emergence of the memories. That and your recent illness."

Finley remained rigid and unspeaking for long minutes. Faramir said nothing more but placed a hand on the back of his neck and gently started to massage the tense muscles. Finley's gaze stayed firmly rooted on his hands.

"I hate it when I have to switch or adjust the drugs. I hate adjusting to it. I hate being on them," Finley murmured as the tension in his neck eased very slightly. "I hate relying on them to function."

"You could not otherwise," Faramir pointed out.

"I know that," Finley said savagely. "Doesn't mean I have to like the fact I'm fucking dependant on them, that without three pills a day I wouldn't physically be able to function."

"No, I would not have detested that as well," Faramir admitted.

"You probably wouldn't have complained though," Finley muttered.

"No, I would have not survived the experience. Our healers were not so advanced," Faramir replied.

"But..." Finley began.

Faramir shook his head. "If Lord Elrond had been present and Aragorn or his brothers there to assist, perhaps a chance, because the...drugs they used on you would also have been limited but I would not have recovered as much. Otherwise and still then, likely, I would have died. Even the Black Breath...it was a wound of a different sort and is not comparable."

Finley shrugged. "There were still treatments, of sorts, for what is wrong with me now. The headaches and stuff."

"Nothing that can compare. Our wounds and our healing were largely of a different sort," Faramir told him. "Nothing I went through compares to what you did."

"You went through some pretty bad stuff," Finley commented.

"Finley," Faramir said firmly. "The worst of my experiences do not compare to yours, not in the least."

Finley drew his legs up out of the water, wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his head on them. "I want to remember you."

"Soon," Faramir told him. "When you are ready. You are not yet."

"I forget, when I wake up. I remember everything here but it doesn't...stick. I forget about getting Alexander to show me what he's found. I know he's not because I'm...we're dealing with this other shit now but I want to know, I want to remember. You're doing that too, aren't you?" Finley questioned.

Faramir smiled. "I am the reason you have begun to remember at all. You are not ready to remember and have given me no control over your conscious mind, I only exist here for now, until you are ready."

"For what?" Finley asked gruffly.

Faramir shook his head.

Finley got up and paced. "Why not?"

"Answer yourself. Here all my knowledge it yours, as yours is mine," Faramir replied.

Finley glared at him, paced, muttered. Faramir waited.

Finley stopped, sat down again. Faramir put an arm around his shoulders. Finley didn't move away but rested his head on the offered shoulder.

"It's a control thing," Finley said finally. "I'm more...vulnerable, I suppose, here, so you can appear. If, no, when I let myself remember you have an aspect of that control there as well."

"Yes," Faramir agreed. "Part of remembering is giving me that."

"But I can't, not yet," Finley told him. "Not yet. You're right, damn you."

Faramir laughed and nodded. "Yes. You are very like me, in that way. The idea of an outside force having any control over you is repulsive. Ben is not an outside force nor is your uncle, and Alexander...well, that is a changing thing. I, somehow, am."

"I didn't understand what you were," Finley told him. "I still don't, really."

"I know," Faramir chuckled. "I had to wait until you were vulnerable and sick to even begin appearing to you here and then it took you time to remember it from night to night. Before you remembered nothing save for the worst memories I have. Those you have been prone to, even receptive to at times."

"Because they're better than my nightmares," Finley said softly. "They're a reprieve. They have hope, even the wave dream, because it's your dream, not mine, and you know the history behind it and know what happened when it was over. They're better than mine but if they're not dark then my nightmares overpower them. They still do, sometimes. You can't keep them away entirely, can you?"

Faramir's eyes softened further with compassion as he shook his head and both arms wrapped tightly around Finley's hunched form. Finley closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He felt safe here, with this version of himself.

"The memory you have always been most receptive to is that of my struggle against the Black Breath," Faramir told him quietly. "You have only recently remembered it, because of Alexander, but you have had it many times before. There is darkness that, but also light. You would never accept better memories until now, the dark dreams you had would overpower them."

Finley snorted. "Yeah, that sounds like me."

"You are too hard on yourself," Faramir told him. "That you clung to that hope when darkness was overpowering shows strength in itself."

Finley said nothing for a long time and eventually untangled himself from Faramir's embrace but remained close. "When I was..."

Finley swallowed. "Afterwards, when I came back and started to heal...You had something to do with that."

Faramir sighed. "Little. I tried to help...settle you, at that point. You were very vulnerable and so I had more ability to do so. You could not have handled the memories then, you likely would have gone mad had that been added to your burdens, but I could help, somewhat in the beginning."

"And when I shut you out, which I'm sure I did after I wasn't so dazed and dependant all the time I went downhill fast. You dulled things for me, at first," Finley observed. "I couldn't deal with it alone, even if I didn't consciously have your help."

Faramir winced, "Yes. I do not know if I made the right decision but I did not think you could deal with everything at once."

Finley shrugged. "Worked out in the end. Wasn't like I was doing so well anyway. I probably would have lost my grip otherwise. Nearly did anyway."

"But you did not," Faramir told him firmly. "You are still here, Finley, and though you have been changed you have not been broken."

"Maybe," Finley replied, looking away.

Faramir huffed. "You are stubborn."

Finley smiled slightly. "So were you."

"I like to think I outgrew that though I am probably wrong," Faramir told him, grinning. His hand came up again, resumed the massage of Finley's neck. He frowned, murmuring, "You are even tense in dreams..."

Finley hunched forward a bit. "I can't help it."

"I know," Faramir said.

Finley was silent for a moment. "Sometimes I feel like a child around you."

Faramir raised an eyebrow, paused and lay his warm hand flat on the back of Finley's neck. "That is not my intent."

"I know," Finley mumbled, rubbing his forehead against his knee. "You've just got...how many damned years to draw from again?"

"120," Faramir answered. "It does broaden one's perspective."

Finley looked at him oddly and then laughed. "I suppose so."

Faramir smiled and chuckled himself. "If I now begin to hear jests of my age from you..."

"Ha!" Finley looked at him and grinned. "I should just to annoy you. Nothing else seems to."

"Age and experience at hiding it," Faramir told him. "I assure you, irritation is something I feel."

"I'm not so good at that," Finley said.

"You are, though not as well as I can," Faramir replied. "You have not had 120 years to learn to either."

"More than120 if you count all the time in between now and then," Finley teased.

Faramir glared in mock anger at him. "You are going to ceaselessly use that against me."

"Yup," Finley told him. His smile faded. "I've got to have something."

Faramir stopped, waited for Finley to look at him. "I will never hurt you."

"I know," Finley said, sitting a bit straighter. "I know you won't. Still scares the shit out of me though."

"It was never going to be easy," Faramir said quietly. "But all such things require courage."

"Yeah." Finley leaned back, looked up at the leaves and the trees and the clear sky. "Yeah, I know."

* * *

Finley was asleep on the couch. They were at Alexander's again. After the tests, they had gone back to Finley's, where they had been the night before, grabbed some stuff, and come back to his house. Finley had wanted to, it meant they had more space around each other when they needed it. Finley needed that but needed to be with someone too...

It was fucked up, Alexander knew it, but Finley was happier this way, if not _happy_, and so he didn't particularly care.

He was worried. Finley was supposed to be better, the pneumonia had cleared up, but...he was still tired all the time. Alexander knew it wasn't likely a side effect of the new drugs, at least it shouldn't be. The scans and tests hadn't shown anything that could be causing this lethargy. It worried him, the unexplainable symptom of something.

The nightmares seemed to have abated somewhat though, that was a blessing. They hadn't stopped exactly, they just weren't as bad. They didn't leave Finley shaking, dazed and puking his guts out as often anymore. Just once since they'd returned from Ben's house.

And Alexander knew, they had slept together since the first night. In the same bed, that was. They hadn't done anything yet. Finley had only kissed him a couple of times since they came home but they did sleep beside each other. Finley seemed to need to and Alexander wasn't about to deny him anything.

It was not easy to wake up next to him though. Especially since Alexander tended to curl around him while they slept. He had, luckily, woken up before Finley when he'd done that and moved away, given him space. He hated doing it but he did it.

And now he was napping again. It was early afternoon and there wasn't any reason for Finley to be tired. They had gone grocery shopping today, that was it. Afterwards Finley had gone to read on the couch and fallen asleep by the time Alexander had put them away. Christ, when they first met Finley had hardly slept at all!

He hadn't brought up the dream stuff, all the research he had done on it, since they got home. He was too worried about this sudden sleeping thing, didn't want to stress Finley about it. If Finley asked then he'd show him but otherwise...He wanted to make sure Finley was healthy first.

Alexander sighed, reached down and absently ran his fingers through Finley's hair, thinking him still asleep. A hand reached up and caught his wrist in a gentle grip.

Grey eyes regarded him with a surreal calm. "I dreamt of you."

Alexander's breath caught in his throat.

"I dreamt of you," Finley repeated. "In another way, then, you loved me, maybe even as much as I loved you."

Alexander nodded, somehow finding a way to get the word unstuck. "Yes."

"I did not understand it, not for a long time, but I did, eventually. You knew that, you always knew somehow," Finley murmured and his lips fluttered gently against Alexander's wrist.

Alexander swallowed hard.

Finley blinked, his eyes revealing bewilderment. Alexander slid onto the couch next to him, pulling him into his arms. Finley was trembling.

Finley gripped at his arms. "Alex..."

"Shh, Fin, it's okay," Alexander tried to soothe him.

"No, no it's not!" Finley was shaking. "What the fuck was that? It was me but not me and...fuck! Fuck! I'm going crazy."

"No, you're not," Alexander said firmly, grabbing his wrists gently. Finley stopped, got a grip, but couldn't stop shaking.

"I think," Alexander said with great care. "That I should show you what I found out about these damn dreams."

* * *

**athelas63: **I think I have an idea of how you wait for this because it's the same as how I wait for you to update: impatiently! They're working on it, don't worry.

**Someone Stupid:** The last bit confused me too, Faramir just kinda butted in and wouldn't go away. He does that. Alexander's family, all of them, will be making more appearances soon, even Daniel and Izzie. Also, there will be glimpses of Finley's family beyond his brother (YAY!) and his father (Boo! Hiss!) coming soon. Can't leave poor Evan alone forever now can I?

**sielge: **Aragorn is being surprisingly unco-operative when it comes to Alexander's dreams. Faramir is the one past character who is really talking to me. Well, him and Denethor who is pissed at me and Finley's father.

**Elenhin: **Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it! Finley...I'm not sure anyone can fully help him, only in little bits. I don't think he's ever going to be completely better but that doesn't mean he's going to be unhappy for the rest of his life either. Faramir is forcefully about how he's going to be so he's surprisingly easy to write. And Ben is the perfect brother; I want one like him!

**Circini: **Yeah, Finley is rather fatalistic in that aspect, he knows he's never going to be the same again, he's just been working to survive everything. Finley is strong, but he does doubt himself a lot.

**Seadragon: **Yes, this is Faramir after everything, good and bad, and I think in the end for him the good managed to outweigh the bad. I like to think Faramir knew a great deal of happiness in the years after the Ring war and that reflects in how I write him. I'm not sure whether I believe in past lives or not, I haven't given it a lot of thought, it just kinda happened for this story. Finley is, as I said, strong, but he's shaky and there's always an element of fear and doubt in him because of past events and he does NOT like the idea that he might be going crazy at all. I don't think Aragorn and Faramir were lovers, btw, but that they did love each other very greatly.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize. Tolkien does.

**Author's Notes: **Unbeta'd for now because of exams and such. Wish Mandi and me luck! Sorry this is late. I'll post the next one early because I'm going to be away from the 17-25! And remember to review! Feedback is sought after avidly.

**Chapter 13**

Finley looked at the laptop Alexander booted up, saw the number of files he pulled up on it. He disappeared for a moment and came back with two binders full or photocopies and hand written notes. Five books were pulled out, marked with yellow post-its and placed before him.

Finley looked across the coffee table at his lover. "You didn't think it might be an idea to tell me about all this before? You didn't think it might interest me just a little?"

Alexander sighed. "I knew it would. That's why I didn't tell you."

"That makes so much sense," Finley said, shaking his head.

"Look, hear me out about this, okay?" Alexander requested.

Finley grimaced and his lips tightened into a thin white line but he nodded. His grey eyes remained intently on his lover and Alexander met the unnerving gaze without flinching.

"When I started having these dreams, whatever they are, it freaked me out a bit but I figured they had to mean something. They felt like they meant something and I've learned not to doubt what my gut tells me," Alexander told him. "I started looking into dream theories and, for the most part it was a bunch of utter crap. The first book I read...It wasn't worth mentioning to you. I didn't finish it, there wasn't any point."

"I kept looking but there was just so much garbage to wade through. I wasn't sure I was going to find anything. I didn't want to tell you I thought there was a reason why both of us were having these weird dreams if there wasn't and it just meant I was going crazy. Then..." Alexander picked up on of the books, a slimmer one, but wide. "Then I hit on something almost by accident."

"A friend of my father's is an archeologist. He doesn't have the world's best reputation. He tends to try to prove things that are a bit outrageous. Most of the time he manages to convince a few people, sometimes he fails miserably and once in a while he does something brilliant. This one is a working theory right now, this is his first publication on it, but it isn't a miserable failure."

"He always sends a copy of his latest work to me as well as my father. He knows it interests me somewhat," Alexander flipped open the thin book and handed it to Finley. "This...I don't know, it just struck a chord in me."

Finley looked down at the book, eyes focussing on a rough sketch that took up one page. A seven story city lay before him, backed into a mountain. It rose before him, gleaming white in the morning sun, strong, merry laughter floating on the summer breeze with the scent of wild flowers as muscle shifted, began to race beneath him and they urged their mounts into a gallop, wind racing through his hair...

"Fin?"

Finley blinked, focussed on Alexander in front of him. He realized that he had dropped the book and that Alexander had shoved the files aside to sit directly in front of him on the coffee table. He was holding his hand tightly, gripping his shoulder with the other and looking at him in concern.

"Fin? You back with me?" Alexander asked.

Finley jerked, shook his head to clear it. "Think so. Fuck. That was...Fuck!"

"What? Fin, did you see something?" Alexander asked intently.

"I..." Finley felt frozen, trapped and suddenly his heart was racing. "The White City. I...Alex..."

"Shh," Alexander soothed, lifting his hand, beginning to rub Finley's shoulders gently. "Breath, Fin. Nothing to panic about."

Finley tried not to but knew his pulse was still racing too fast. Knew Alexander knew it too, because he dropped a hand to his wrist and bloody well checked, frowning as he peered into Finley's eyes.

Finley forced himself to calm further. "What happened?"

"You looked at the picture and went pale, really pale. Your eyes went glassy. You dropped the book and didn't respond for a few moments. Looked like you were going into shock," Alexander explained. He put a hand to Finley's forehead, ignoring the scowl, relieved to find no temperature. "Okay? Now you want to tell me what happened on your end?"

"Dunno, exactly," Finley tried to concentrate and found he could recall the...flicker, he supposed, with great detail. Not exactly as vividly as that moment, when he felt like it was there, but like a memory, or something.

"I saw that city, I think," Finley began and the name flashed into his mind again. "The White City. I...Minas Tirith. The name of the city is Minas Tirith. It felt like I was there, for a second, riding towards it."

Alexander nodded and picked the book up. He thumbed through the pages absently. "The idea of civilizations existing before we have records of them isn't something new. Even the idea of something like the city of Troy, which keeps going from fact to legend to fact, is debated still. This goes a step further."

"It argues that there may have been civilizations we have almost lost all trace of because they are so old, past Mesopotamia, far past it. It brings up the idea of a sort of dark age, where everything fell into ruin and all the knowledge of what was died out or was turned into myth that is so obscure now it's almost extinct," Alexander paused for a moment.

"Not even that is a new idea but the further step is the suggestion evolution may not be what we think it is. That we didn't evolve from austropithicus or however far back you want to go with that but out lasted that species, as it were. Existed at the same time almost as we are now but in a diminished state," Alexander flipped through the book again, opened to a new page with a picture of what look like bits of hard dirt with faint markings. "It suggests that there were other species around before everything was lost, even, maybe even most advanced than what the ancestors of modern day man would have been. There are certain images they think they've discovered."

"It could be just ancient story books, children's tales, an imaginative artist but the dates they've gotten back on some fragments are frankly impossible given what we assume we know," Alexander continued. "This guy, he doesn't do hoaxes, he just believes in some pretty out there stuff. He's never fabricated anything before. He's gotten it wrong, but not intentionally tried to fool people."

"It's nuts. It's insane. It can't be true but it feels right. Some of the stuff, not the theories, some of that is a bit out there, but the sketches and the fragments they've found...I don't know. It just feels familiar or something," Alexander put the book down, grabbed the binder and opened it. "So I started going through old myths, looking for references or something. Everything I've found, anything I could remotely connect to the idea I pulled up and I've been e-mailing Dr. Jones about it too."

Finley stared at him. Didn't know what the hell to say and then something clicked and he started to laugh. "Dr. Jones?"

Alexander blinked, startled, then chuckled. "Yeah, I know. He hates that, thought about changing his last name before. He's not exactly a good looking man either, says that makes it worse. His first name is Mike."

Finley snorted before gesturing to all the material, a grin still on his face. "How many hours did you put into this?"

"Too many," Alexander replied. "I spent entire nights trying to get to more information that wasn't there half the time."

Finley took one of the books, this one looked to be all about obscure myths. He flipped it over, then looked at Alexander again. "And why didn't you tell me about this? Once you started thinking maybe you had something?"

"I thought I might be going just a little crazy," Alexander admitted. "I didn't want to drag you into it if that was the case and I thought if all this research gets done and it turns out to be nothing then...Well, I knew it would make me feel as if I'd lost my mind completely, I didn't want the same thing to happen to you."

Finley exhaled. "Yeah, I can understand that. Why are you telling me now then?"

"Because I don't think it's crazy anymore," Alexander replied. "Because I'm damn tired of keeping secrets from you and this happens to be a big one. I nearly lost you because of it, and this is what consumed most of my time. I couldn't tell Ben that, I know he'd think I'm nuts but, fuck it, I'd rather be crazy then lose you."

Finley grabbed Alexander's hand, looked him in the eye and told him, "No, you don't."

He let go and Alexander knew enough not to say anything. Finley sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't think you're crazy though. It's a better explanation than you gave me for the first out there dream I told you about."

Alexander looked confused for a moment but then smiled faintly. Finley returned it then pressed on. "I need to know more about all this, what you found, what it means, how it fits together and what it has to do with the dreams."

Alexander nodded. "How do you feel about the theory of reincarnation?"

* * *

"Will I remember now?" Finley asked.

They were walking together through the white streets of Minas Tirith in the early morning. The city was beginning to come alive around them and Finley kept catching whiffs of baking bread on the air. Bread and cinnamon buns.

"Yes," Faramir replied. "When you wake up again you will remember everything. It might take some time to convince Alexander of all this newfound information though. You will be expanding on what he has discovered quite vastly."

He stopped to greet someone, a soldier, exchanging a few warm words. Finley, it seemed, was invisible to them, but he had already known he would be. This was Faramir's memory, he knew, he was only privy to it.

"Why doesn't Alexander remember?" Finley asked, frowning.

Faramir shrugged. "Aragorn has chosen to do things differently then me, I suppose. He remembers bits and pieces, not like you will. It also may have something to do with our bloodlines. His are more pure from a Numonean perspective but I, technically, possessed more Elven blood, which may have something to do with it. On my father's side I am related to Aragorn and his heritage, though not as purely. On my mother's side there was also Elven blood."

"I didn't think I was actually a descendant," Finley remarked.

"You are not. My bloodline died out years ago. So did the King's. The only bloodline that was considered noble that survived to the present day was of Dol Amroth and you are not part of that either," Faramir told him with a smile. "So do not think about proclaiming Alexander ruler of what was Gondor. He has no claim to it. None do and I am not certain the area that was Dol Amroth still exists."

"Atlantis?" Finley wondered.

"No, the breaking of the continents. Atlantis is a myth as far as I know," Faramir replied. "It does appear that those whose fea was tied to a hroa with more Elven blood remembers more and has an easier time remembering and Numoean blood follows. Those of Rohirrim blood...Well, they were always a stubborn people."

"Does that mean...?" Finley began.

Faramir smiled. "She has never forgotten. She was born with the memories though she had to wait until her mind could process them to understand it all. She is special though, different, and she always will be."

"Wait, she knows?" Finley exclaimed.

"Oh yes." Faramir's smile broadened. "She knows exactly who you are. They both do but only because she has shared her knowledge. As I said, the Rohirrim were always a stubborn lot."

"Why didn't she say anything?" Finley demanded.

"You would have to ask her but I believe she understood, as I did, that you had to be ready for this knowledge and you were not," Faramir told him.

Finley frowned and sighed, knowing better than to argue. "So you'll always be there now."

"I always was there, you simply did not know it or understand it," Faramir corrected. "But, yes, I will be more present from now on."

Finley remained silent for a moment, then looked at him sharply. "Hey...I was ready before, the last dream, I...Why didn't I remember then?"

"That was my doing," Faramir told him, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

Finley stared, "Why?"

"Oh honestly," Faramir sighed. "I have not had to resort to such measures since my children were between youth and adulthood! I am too old to be trying to nudge fools like you two together."

Finley stopped in his tracks, dumbfounded.

Faramir laughed and slung an affectionate arm around Finley's shoulder. "Do not worry; love has stunningly wonderful ways of making fools of us all and, do not forget, have always been something of a romantic."

* * *

Finley woke up just before dawn. Hazy light was spilling into the bedroom, Alexander always forgot to close the blinds.

Finley sighed. He really didn't want to move. He was too warm and comfortable.

He closed his eyes and felt the huff of Alexander's breathing on the back of his neck. He smiled. He had missed this, waking up surrounded by the smell and warmth of his lover, Alexander's breath tickling the soft short hairs on the back of his neck. He had missed waking up in his arms, hated the loss all the more when they had slept on opposite sides of the same bed.

He lay there for a while, enjoying the warmth, enjoying how right it felt. He didn't want to think about anything just yet. Later, he knew he would need to process it all, but not just yet.

Eventually, though, nature stopped calling and started screaming and he managed to slip reluctantly out of Alexadner's arms without waking his lover. He wondered what Alexander would say when he told him everything, and he would tell him everything, fill in all the gaping holes that the research he had done hadn't come close to filling.

He decided to shower later but splashed some water on his face in an attempt to clear his head. He could feel the light pulse of a headache thrum behind his eyes and grabbed a couple Advil as well. It wasn't bad, hardly even something to comment on, really, and the over the counter medication chased the dregs of it away.

It was only, he was sure, the consequence of absorbing so much in one night. It was, he thought, not an unfair price.

He didn't feel like going back to bed, as tempting as sinking back into that warmth and into those arms was. He felt almost restless with the need to be outside, to breath. He wondered if that was a side effect too, hoped it wasn't since he lived in the city and liked living in the city as well.

The sun was breaking through the tree branches, rays spilling over the roofs of the neighbours who were, intelligently, still sleeping, when he sat down on one of the dewy wooden deck chairs. He shivered, glad he always wore socks to bed, at least, because the circulation in his feet wasn't so great anymore and they weren't pretty to look at either. He absently thought he should have grabbed a blanket on his way out.

And one fell around his shoulders, accompanied by a pair of warm hands. Finley could almost feel Alexander's concern but smiled as the hands stayed there, still touching him, not falling to the side for fear he would pull away. He wasn't going to pull away.

He looked up, instead, and smiled. "I remember."

* * *

**LadyBush: **Did this clear things up any? No? I'm confused too. Faramir is real at least, according to him he is and he's pretty damn insistant about it. Thank you for reviewing! You were the only one I got last chapter.

Also, there is another flashback chapter coming up soon, just to warn everyone and with that I'll have to update the character lists. ;-)


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Author's Notes: This is unbeta'd because I forgot to send it to Mandi at the start of the week and will be in Mexico without computer access in less than 24 hours. Squee! Vacation time!

So this update comes early because otherwise it would come really late! More flashbacks ahead...

**Chapter 14**

"This is wrong too." Finley pointed out a sketch in the book Alexander had shown him. He paused, shook his head. "I'm not even sure what that's supposed to be. It looks...a house elf from Harry Potter or something."

Alexander snorted. "Since no where else is there anything that could remotely be connected to hobbits..."

Finley blinked. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Unfortunately, that's what I figured. Didn't know the name at the time but, yeah," Alexander said, coming into the room. He put a plate of cheese, fruit and crackers in front of Finley who wrinkled his nose. Alexander chuckled, "Nibble."

"Sam would be offended," Finley commented but he did pick up a slice of apple. He grinned and shook his head. "Pippin would find it amusing, I think."

Alexander smiled. He didn't remember, not in the way Finley seemed to but there were a few memories and other vague impression. He remembered certain people and the hobbits, well, they weren't exactly forgettable.

"No mention of the elves," Finley observed around a cracker. Alexander smiled. The best way to get Finley to eat was to put something in front of him when he was otherwise distracted. "I guess that makes sense. I think they might be what he refers to as another class of man. Hmm, I don't think King Thranduil would appreciate that."

Alexander raised an eyebrow at him. Finley smiled. "Legolas' father, King of Lasgalen or Mirkwood. He was rather haughty, if I remember correctly."

"I'm sure you do," Alexander told him automatically. "And Mirkwood rings vague bells, though not pleasant ones."

"It shouldn't," Finley told him, setting aside the book. He looked up at his lover. "It feels odd, remembering more than you do."

Alexander shrugged. "I'll make do with what I've got. I keep getting flashes through dreams and just...vague impressions sometimes." He paused. "I can't believe Annie never said anything."

Finley chuckled. "That's going to be an interesting conversation."

Alexander laughed and bent down, his face coming close to Finley's. Finley took the opportunity to tilt his head up and kiss him, something Alexander had greatly missed doing. Finley flushed slightly when they pulled apart but he was smiling.

Alexander took a step back. He frowned slightly then his hands dropped to Finley's shoulders and began kneading the constantly tense muscles. Finley made an appreciative, contented sound in the back of his throat.

"Tell me something that I don't know about you," Alexander requested.

"What? Not something no one else knows?" Finley teased. He let his head fall forward and gave a soft groan.

"There's something you haven't told Ben?" Alexander replied.

Finley chuckled. "He knows a helluva lot less than you do about my sex life."

Alexander laughed, leaned forward and kissed the tip of his ear. It was an unconscious move, one he almost froze after, hoping Finley wouldn't pull away from him, rejoicing at the positive reaction. "Good!"

Finley shivered, heard Alexander's chuckle even as the warm hands pressed on his neck. "So what do you want to know?"

"Dunno," Alexander replied. "You tell me."

Finley was silent for a few minutes, except for the groan he gave as Alexander worked on a knot in his shoulder. "I used to play the flute."

"Really?" Alexander questioned. "Used to?"

"Yeah, in school," Finley answered. "I started...in grade four, it was optional and the class was small. I don't know why I decided to do it, because Ben wasn't, because I liked the idea, I guess. Played right through until I graduated highschool."

"Why'd you stop?" Alexander asked.

"No flute after I graduated," Finley told him. "I'd always borrowed the school's instruments."

"Hmm," Alexander frowned. "What else did you do in school?"

"I dunno. That feels good," Finley murmured. "In highschool?"

"Sure."

"A bunch of stuff. It kept me out of the house," Finley replied. "I was on the swim team and cross country. Ben played football so I didn't do that. I played soccer instead. Didn't want to just be his little brother, you know?"

"Yeah, Danny used to complain about that, but with teachers mostly," Alexander told him.

"Yeah, I remember that, wasn't as much of a thing there," Finley said, smiling. "I worked on the yearbook. Did band and drama and this Odyssey of the Mind thing."

"I've heard of it," Alexander told him.

"So what about you?" Finley asked.

"What did I do in school?" Alexander clarified.

"Yeah, or something else I don't know about you," Finley replied.

Alexander chuckled. "I did as little as possible in school. The art club because I felt like it. I refused to join a sports team."

"Tell me something else then," Finley told him.

"When I was little I wanted to be a painter when I grew up," Alexander said.

"Why aren't you a painter then?" Finley asked.

"Changed my mind. Not sure when. I knew by high school I wanted to be a doctor," Alexander told him. "Just felt right to me. What about you?"

"Dunno," Finley was silent for a moment. "I wanted to go to College. I wanted to travel. Didn't know after that. Thought being a teacher might be an idea."

Alexander was silent. He concentrated on massaging Finley's neck. Finley closed his eyes. "Your turn."

Alexander raised his eyebrow, thought a moment, then smiled. "The first time I met you I wished that I was meeting you in a coffee shop, or something, not a club for a one night stand."

"Why?" Finley asked, it was the first thing he could think of.

"I wanted more than that. I don't know why, I just did. So I came back the next night, and I kept coming back as often as I could, hoping it would turn into something more. And then it did," Alexander told him. The motions of his hands had turned into a caress. He leaned forward and kissed the back of Finley's neck lightly. "I love you."

Finley swallowed and blinked his eyes open. "I know. Me too."

Alexander let his hands fall away and Finley shuddered at the lack of contact. Alexander moved around the couch to sit beside him. Finley reached for his hand and without speaking they leaned against each other. Finley gave a very soft sigh.

Alexander studied his hands for a moment, not speaking, and came to a decision. "Fin?"

"Yeah," Finley answered.

"Last night, when we were talking, when I said I'd rather be crazy then lose you..." Alexander felt all the tension return to Finley. "Fin?"

"This isn't crazy," Finley told him. "We're not crazy."

"No, we're not," Alexander agreed. "But your reaction..."

"It wasn't normal," Finley said very quietly. He would have pulled his hand away but Alexander kept a firm hold on it. Finley looked at him.

"I'd like to know," Alexander told him quietly. "But if you'd rather not tell me..."

"I'm going to need a smoke for this," Finley murmured. "Fuck! I'm going to need a whole fucking pack."

As he grabbed one from his pack, Alexander grabbed his hand gently. "Fin, no, not if you're uncomfortable telling me..."

Finley laughed humourlessly and pulled away, lighting the smoke, sucking in all the crap from the cigarette and giving himself an edge of calm, just enough to keep his hands from trembling too badly. "I'm never going to be comfortable talking about this and there's never going to be a good time to talk about it. You should know though, I probably should have told you before or something."

Alexander said nothing as Finley took another drag and blew out a puff of smoke. They sat for a few moments, the thin grey curl rising from the cigarette Finley had. He raised it to his lips, inhaled again, and Alexander put a careful hand on his arm.

"I know what it's like to not be...quite sane. I...wasn't, for awhile," Finley told him, not looking at him. "You don't want to experience it, believe me."

Alexander remained silent but his hand tightened around Finley's arm. Finley didn't look at him. "After I came back home, after my father died..."

"No, that's not exactly right," Finley frowned. "It was before he died. Just before my birthday that I...I started to lose my grip on things and I eventually lost it pretty much completely."

"I...Ben didn't know what to do with me. I was living with him and then I started to go really downhill and he just didn't know what to do to help me," Finley paused, took a deep breath, followed it with a drag. "He thought I'd been doing okay, getting better, and I was healing physically. Faramir..."

Alexander looked oddly at him. Finley smiled wryly. "He told me that at the start, when I came back, he tried to make things easier on me by...I dunno, suppressing things a bit, suppressing my reactions to everything as much as he could but I wasn't ready to remember and so when I became less vulnerable, when the pain pills were reduced and such, he had to withdraw and then..."

Finley finished the cigarette, started another. "Then I went to pieces. I don't remember everything about that time very clearly. It's muddled and I can't make sense of what I was thinking. I think maybe that's a good thing."

"I was losing weight, too much of it, and I got more and more...clingy, dependant. I couldn't function without Ben. It wasn't even like now, my reactions, I would have panic attacks when he wasn't around. I couldn't be alone in the apartment for more than an hour or so or he would come back to find me hiding under the bed or something, just completely out of it and sobbing," Finley shook his head. "It got really bad. Sometimes I'm surprised I didn't go catatonic or do myself physical damage. Even the weight loss alone could have done that...I went down to around a hundred pounds at one point."

"I never tried to kill myself or anything. Thought about it, I think, but after my father...I just couldn't do that to Ben. Still, not eating, not being to keep anything down, that would've killed me if my uncle hadn't intervened," Finley said. He took a drag, clenched his hand into a fist to keep it from shaking. "Ben tried, he really did, and then he called our uncle, asked if I could go stay with them, figuring maybe that could help."

* * *

Finley was curled tightly into himself on the floor next to the bed. Ben stood in the doorway, watching him, his heart aching.

He was just huddled there, shaking, but, thankfully, not crying again. Ben hated the crying jags most of all because he could never seem to comfort his brother during them, not enough to get him to stop. He would just keep weeping, even after he made himself sick, just keep crying until he finally fell asleep from exhaustion.

Ben was scared for him. The weight loss worried him most. It was out of control. Anything he'd gained back since he'd been home was gone and then some. Any gains he'd made seemed to have been lost. He just wasn't coping.

He couldn't stand being naked anymore, not even to bathe. He wore a bathing suit and a t-shirt to shower for Christ's sake and he hadn't even been able to do that for over a week. It was likely that he'd freak out if anyone touched him, only Ben was allowed to anymore and it was iffy even then and...goddamnit, he just didn't know what to do! He was losing his little brother; he knew that, he just didn't know how to stop it!

So he had finally, desperately, called his uncle and now Irving was on his way. He had driven down from fucking Nova Scotia, Canada to take Finley home with him.

Ben hadn't told Finley yet and Irving had called from his hotel. He'd be there tomorrow, sometime in the afternoon. They both thought it was best that he do a direct turn around with Finley too. Ben got the feeling the trip was going to exhaust him.

Ben figured if he didn't tell him until the last minute Finley would have less time to freak out. Ben...he wasn't dealing with the panic attacks so well. He'd had to call 911 they got so bad a couple times. Finley had hated that but, dammit, what else was he supposed to do when Finley was going blue in the face from hyperventilating and then passing out?

Ben couldn't help him anymore. He didn't know how to help him. But Finley needed some warning about what was going to happen. He sat across from Finley, facing his little brother, and tried to find the right words. Finley was still staring at his hands, slightly flushed. Ben knew how frustrated and scared he was most of the time.

"Fin...we need to talk," Ben began.

Finley said nothing but Ben felt the change in him. It was unsettling.

"Fin, I can't help you," Ben said, trying to keep his words gentle. Finley said nothing. "I think you should go live with uncle for awhile. He can do more for you, I think, what I can't."

A shiver raced through Finley. He curled tighter into himself.

"Fin, say something," Ben pleaded.

Finley's eyes flickered and Ben nearly flinched at the dullness there. "Don't sent me away. Please, I'll be better, just don't send me away. Please."

"God, Fin." Ben made a chocked sound and gathered Finley into his arms. Finley went too willingly, felt slight and fragile huddled against him, clinging.

"Fin, I'm not sending you away. I don't want you to go any more than you do but you're getting worse and I don't know what to do to help anymore," Ben murmured. "Uncle can help you. He'll be there all the time, like I can't be. I don't know what to do anymore and you're slipping away from me."

"I won't. I'm sorry. Ben..." Finley was shaking hard now and Ben felt tears on his neck.

"Shh, Fin," Ben hushed, stroking his hair gently, trying to stay calm himself. He couldn't do this anymore, he wasn't helping and he didn't know how. "It's okay. It's not your fault. We've just got to get you better. It'll all be okay."

* * *

Irving was sitting on the couch, reading, when Ben arrived home. Ben stared. He had seen his uncle just over three weeks ago. They had decided it was best not to see how Finley reacted to flying yet; instead Irving had driven down from Nova Scotia picked him up and taken him back. It was a long drive, but Irving had been willing to do it for Finley.

"Hello, Ben," Irving greeted, putting the magazine aside. "Finley is sleeping and we need to talk."

"Is he okay? What happened? Why are you back here?" Ben didn't wait for answers but raved into his bedroom to check on his brother.

Finley was curled up in the bed. He looked...bad. Ben felt a strange sick feeling settle in his stomach. He touched his short hair gently, frowning when Finley didn't even stir, he normally did. He never slept deeply anymore.

"He's sedated," Irving said from the doorway. "He won't wake up for a few more hours."

"What!?" Ben demanded, whirling to face his uncle, standing as if he would have to ward off an attack.

Irving kept calm, he rarely appeared otherwise. "We were worried he wouldn't be able to handle the plane ride and driving takes too long. It was cleared and prescribed by my doctor and we checked with his. We tested the effects before the flight to make sure he wasn't going to have a bad reaction."

"And they let you on the plane?" Ben asked.

"It was all arranged beforehand. They weren't pleased with the short notice but..." Irving shrugged. "He can wake enough to get off the plane and onto their airport golf carts and then into the rental car. It just takes a good deal of time to wake him that much."

Ben did not look pleased. "Why are you here? I thought..."

"Ben," Irving broke in, looking sadly at his nephew. "A vacation is not going to magically cure him. We need to talk but let's let him sleep, okay?"

Irving knew it would take a considerable amount of noise to rouse his youngest nephew but it was a chance he would rather not take. Finley didn't need to wake to an argument.

Ben gritted his teeth and strode into out of the bedroom, knowing his uncle would follow. When Irving closed the door, Ben turned on him. "I never thought a vacation would magically cure him. I'm not an idiot, uncle. I thought you would be able to help him. If you aren't...

"Ben, stop," Irving put his hands up in a gesture of peace and took a seat again. Ben did too, sitting rigidly. "Finley needs more help than either of us can give him. And he needs you, right now. He has become dependant on you. You're the only person he trusts at this point."

Ben got up, started pacing. This wasn't anything he didn't already know. "I'm not helping him though! He was getting worse here!"

"He's declining much faster when you aren't with him." Irving told him. He hesitated. "He's lost over ten pounds since he came to stay with me."

Ben stopped and stared. "What?!"

"He can't afford that," Irving continued. "But he can't stop it either and it has to stop. The weight loss cannot continue. We have to get him real, professional help or else we are going to have to look into institutionalized care for him."

"There is no way in hell I'm putting my little brother into a looney bin!" Ben roared. "Are you crazy?"

"He is dying, Ben!" Irving's voice rose in anger and his eyes were fierce. "He's dying by inches right in front of you. That is what is happening to him. He will die if this continues and if the only way to stop that is to put him in a hospital then you damn well better believe I will find a way to do it! I will not let him go that easily."

"I..." Ben stared, floundered, dying ringing in his ears. "Uncle..."

Irving was out of the chair and to Ben with two strides, grabbing him tightly and hugging him hard. Ben shuddered, hands closing into fists as he fought the burning behind his eyes. His uncle had a few inches on him, Irving was a tall man, and Ben pressed his face harshly against his collar bone, forcing himself not to fall apart entirely.

"He can't die," Ben murmured shakily. "They saved him. He can't die now, not from this."

"He can," Irving told him. "But we won't let him. We will find a way to help him. _We_ have to, Ben. Neither of us can do this alone. I'm here, I'll stay, I'll help, but I need to know everything and I need you to trust me. I know you don't; you haven't trusted me since a few years after your mother's death."

Ben swallowed but couldn't disagree. Their mother had died when he was nine, of cancer, and after that their uncle hadn't been around nearly as much. He hadn't called except for Christmas, had written, but less frequently, and though they had, on occasion, found themselves shipped off to Nova Scotia by their father, it had never been the same. When Ben got older, he realized their father sent them away when he didn't want them around for awhile, for whatever reason. Those times...They were the best of his childhood, even before his mother had died.

Ben realized later that their father had been actively keeping their extended family away, had found letters in his father's files for them that they had never received, even. The birthday presents were the worst things to find, still wrapped, only the recent ones, since the last move, but Ben didn't doubt they had been sent one each year. Some years they had received nothing, they hadn't had the money, but they had never received the ones Ben found in their father's crawlspace. For pride or whatever he had kept them from his children.

It was dealing with his father's estate, what little there was, that Ben realized their uncle had not abandoned them though he hadn't been there. He had paid for proper medical insurance for both of them, had paid for any necessities that their father hadn't been able to afford himself, even sent school supplies, at least that hadn't been refused.

"Uncle..." Ben couldn't think of what to say. "I'm sorry."

Irving shook his head, tightening his arms around his fully grown nephew. "If there had been any chance of winning I would have tried to get custody of you two. There wasn't at the time, or so my lawyer told me, and I thought if I made the attempt and lost your father would take away the limited contact I had."

"He would have," Ben gritted out. "He fucking would have."

Irving remained silent for a moment and Ben pulled away, a bit embarrassed though he knew his uncle would never think any less of him even if he had given into tears. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. Irving touched his hair gently, ignoring Ben's slight flinch.

"Your father was a very troubled man," Irving said gently. "I can't defend him to you. I won't, he caused you too much pain but you should know that he wasn't always like that. Before he went to fight in his war he was, though not my favourite person, an okay guy. He never spoke of what happened but I believe something similar happened to him."

Ben jerked back. "Fin..."

"Has a much greater support system then your father ever did," Irving assured him. "We won't let that happen."

"I thought getting away from here would help. That the change would make a difference," Ben admitted. "I didn't know what else to do."

"We will figure it out, Ben," Irving assured him. "But he needs you around now. Without your emotional support he falls to pieces and it reflects physically as well. I know he wasn't losing this much weight when he was still here otherwise he would have been hospitalized by now. He can't eat and when he does he throws up."

"God, so now he has a fucking eating disorder?" Ben questioned.

"I don't know what to call it." Irving paused, thought. "He is never hungry but he's ashamed of that. He tries to force himself to eat and keep it down but he can't."

Irving frowned, thinking of holding his nephew in his arms after he had thrown up what little dinner he had chocked down, of Finley's shaking and sobbing and desperate apologies. "I noticed the more you engage him during the meal and the more he is kept occupied afterwards the less likely he is to lose throw up afterwards. I don't think he wants to, I think whatever is going on in his head unsettles his stomach enough to make him. He's trapped inside his thoughts too often."

Irving shrugged. "The problem now is mostly mental. He is healing physically. We need to get him a good psychiatrist, get the social worker he's supposed to have through the army sorted out and make sure he knows he has us to support him."

Ben fidgeted, looking distinctly uncomfortable but forcing the words out. "Uncle, I don't...I just don't have..."

"I will make sure he gets the best help, Ben. This is something we're in together. You don't have to worry about that or where the money will come from. You are family. I have it, you'll get it, whatever is needed," Irving said firmly. Both boys were touchy about money, they knew too well what it was like not to have it, but Ben knew this was not a time for pride. Not when Finley needed the help.

It took them nearly four weeks to find the right psychiatrist. Irving was a thorough investigator and, frankly, they couldn't waste time with someone who would do more harm then good. He dismissed three from consideration before Finley even knew about them. Two, he saw, but it quickly became apparent that it wasn't going to work with them. They both saw it themselves and recommended their fellows as a better option for Finley.

Then they found Dr. Mallan. She was an older woman, recommended by the second doctor who thought she would be able to help Finley where he couldn't. She wasn't the most expensive therapist they considered but she was up there. Ben knew he couldn't have afforded her, especially during the first three months when Finley was seeing her five times a week or more, on occasion.

Irving was in for the long haul, though, and never said anything about the money he was spending. He was with them more than his own family until the Senate resumed and even then he remained heavily involved in their lives, especially Fin's.

Ben wondered, for awhile, if Irving was doing it out of guilt but knew there was more to his motivation than that, even if guilt was a part of it. Absently, he wished that their uncle had taken them away from their father when they were children but he didn't dwell on it. Irving was there now, it hurt too much to think of what might have been. They didn't tell Finley about it. He didn't need the disappointment.

And Finley was getting better. It was a slow process, a very slow process but he was getting better. He was able to eat again and his responses were becoming less...child like, in a way, Ben supposed. It was still there, the need, the dependance, but they could leave him long enough to go to the corner store, or drop him off for his therapy and know when they came back he would not be having a break down.

He could face a session alone, though Irving or Ben still sometimes went with him, and that was a victory in itself. He could walk from Dr. Mallan's office to the car without needing Ben there, holding him, protecting him. Another victory, Ben thought as Finley did just that and even managed a small smile for his brother, though Ben knew he was distressed.

Ben took all the little victories. It was something to work for, hope for, and eventually they added up.

Finley was quiet on the car ride home. Ben was worried but not surprised and less worried than other times. Silence wasn't necessarily a bad thing, Dr. Mallan had told them, Finley did need time to think things through occasionally and especially after sessions. He had responded to the small talk like questions Ben had asked. That was enough for now.

And as they pulled out of the parking lot Finley reached for his hand and held it tightly. The need for touch, but not overwhelming touch, was a good sign. Sometimes after therapy sessions now he just huddled back in his seat refusing any comfort, even from Ben.

So even if Finley was quiet and even if Ben could see he had been crying he wasn't as worried as he could have been. He wasn't, even though Dr. Mallan had sent the tape home tonight. Dr. Mallan recorded all their sessions. Most of them were kept private but sometimes both the doctor and Finley agreed that they had to be shared with Finley's support system and most of the time it would be too hard on Finley to talk about it again any time soon. It meant Ben knew the session had been hard and important.

When they got home Finley went directly into the bathroom, moving with a purpose. Ben heard the water turn on as he hung up his coat. He went in to check but Finley had already disappeared into the bedroom.

He dipped his finger tips into the water and frowned slightly. It wasn't too hot but it was close.

"Fin?" Ben called.

"I'm okay," Finley replied, his voice muffled from the closed door.

"Do you need one of the anxiety pills?" Ben asked.

There was a slight hesitation but not enough of one to make Ben get the pills no matter what Finley said. "No. I'm okay, thanks."

"Alright," Ben sighed and went to find Finley's cigarettes. Whenever Finley considered taking on of the pills and decided against it a smoke was needed. It seemed to calm him a bit.

The bedroom door was open and bathroom door was half closed when he returned. He knocked on the door frame. "Fin?"

"You can come in," Finley replied.

Ben suppressed a grimace when he did. Finley was hunkered down in the bathtub wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt as the almost too hot water poured in. Ben put the lid down on the toilet and sat down. He reached out and touched Finley's hair, stroking it gently when Finley leaned into the touch.

"Cold?" Ben asked.

Finley nodded. "Yeah, and a bit self conscious, I guess. I just...need the barriers right now."

"You want to tell me about it?" Ben asked, keeping his voice gentle.

"Can't. Not now," Finley told him. He looked up at his brother. "It's on the tape."

Ben wasn't about to push it, he knew better than that. Finley was constantly cold. It seemed to get worse when he got upset.

"Should uncle listen to the tape as well?" Ben inquired. Irving had flown home for a few days. Finley was well enough to be okay with just Ben for the three days he was gone.

"Yeah," Finley replied.

"Okay," Ben said. "What do you want for dinner?"

Finley grimaced, shifted. "Mashed potatoes?"

"Something else too, Fin," Ben reminded him gently. Finley was seeing a nutritionist now too, once a week, and had to answer to her when his weight gain wasn't sufficient. Potatoes were not allowed to be a meal by themselves though she wasn't objecting yet to how often Finley ate them for the comfort factor.

"Something warm," Finley requested, reaching for his cigarettes, fiddling with them. "Something blandish, tonight."

"Okay," Ben said, trying to think of what they had. Irving did the shopping. Irving could afford the protein shakes and vitamin supplements Finley had to take until his weight stabilised.

He was paying for the doctor's bills too, anything the army wouldn't cover. They did cover quite a bit but the bits and pieces that Irving picked up would have broken Ben's budget. Having him around was good for Finley too. Finley had been close to Irving when they were younger and it meant someone was almost always close by in case there was a problem.

Independence wasn't in the cards yet, wouldn't be for a while probably. Finley couldn't function alone. It wasn't safe yet, not because he was going to hurt himself, but because he wasn't that stable yet. They were trying to find the right combination of drugs to balance the chemical problems in his brains, the first ones he was on had worked but it could be better. He still had panic attacks and that medication knocked him pretty much on his ass, same with the medication for the severe, multiple day spanning headaches he got. He just wasn't ready to deal with the world alone yet.

And as Ben got up to make dinner he was reminded that sometimes Finley just needed the reassurance that he wasn't alone. The hand on his wrist, the haunted look in his little brother's eyes...it got to him even more then the quiet, "Please stay."

Even before Ben would have never denied Finley anything now he really wouldn't, not unless it was a specific instruction from Dr. Mallan. He waited as Finley kept tight hold of his hand and struggled to find the courage to speak.

"We talked about the missing week today," Finley murmured. "That's not the part of the tape she sent home but that's part of it. The flashes I remember. Dr. Mallan said I shouldn't try too hard to remember, that I probably wouldn't remember anything much and even if I did it wouldn't make much sense."

"That's what the doctors said before," Ben told him.

"I know," Finley said, nodding. "She has all the records. She showed some of them to me. With all the different shit they used, the combination of drugs, the levels I tested for when they found me...I guess I should be lucky I didn't overdose and die or lose more than a week but it bothers me, not knowing, you know?"

"Yeah, I understand it," Ben replied.

"The other weeks are hazy and there are black spots where I think I was unconscious but they're still there. That whole week, nearly, it's gone. Just these crazy flashes that make no sense and were probably hallucinations on my part," Finley was shivering now and he turned his head away. "I don't remember being rescued. It's just not there and I want to know for myself, not what other people tell me happened."

Ben moved forward immediately, leaning into the tub and holding him. His skin was warm but he shivered. Ben knew he still felt cold, that he couldn't shake the feeling. "And there isn't even anyone to tell you what happened that week which makes it scarier. I get it, Fin."

"Fuck," Finley muttered, turning to rest his head against his brother. "Yes. God, I hate this. I hate it. I'm such a fucking mess."

"It takes time, Fin, that's what they keep telling us, that's what we've got to believe. You're getting better. It just takes time to get there," Ben soothed, stroking his brother's hair. It was a familiar complaint, one Ben was always glad to hear. It said a lot about Finley's awareness and that he wanted to get better.

"I don't want to be like this, Ben," Finley murmured.

"You won't be, not forever," Ben assured him. "We'll make it through this. We aren't alone in it."

"I know," Finley whispered. "Thanks."

Then Finley fell silent but curled further into his brother's embrace, pressed against the side of the bath tub. Ben held him until Finley was ready to let go.

Finley wiped a shaky hand over his eyes when they let go. "I feel like a bit of an idiot like this."

Ben shook his head. "Don't. If you still need the barrier then you still need the barriers. It's okay."

Truthfully, it scared the fuck out of Ben. The need to always be wearing clothes, and layers at that...well, it made Ben's mind leap to one thing and with the absence of a week in Finley's memory...Anything could have happened in that week, anything. Ben thought of it too often.

They had never found any evidence that Finley had been raped. The physical damage that would have suggested that was not there. He was bruised and battered just about everywhere but the marks and tearing associated with that sort of assault were not there. It looked like he had been left untouched in that respect.

Finley had been found naked. He remembered being stripped and thrown into a small, unlit cell for what they estimated had been three days in the first week of his captivity. That could explain his desire to avoid nudity.

And he didn't remember being raped at any point; he didn't even remember the threat being made. He had asked about it; he knew as well as Ben did that one of the easiest ways to debase a prisoner was to rape him or her. The lack of physical evidence, the lack of memory on his part, was enough for Finley.

Ben worried though. This was his little brother and he knew which way Finley swung. He didn't want to think about the implications that could have on any of his future relationships. Christ, he didn't want to think about what implications it could have at all. He just wanted Finley to be happy again.

Finley let out a shaky breath, pulling Ben from his thoughts. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly. "This should be funny."

Ben frowned, looking at his brother, noticing how tense his muscles were. "What?"

"I'm sitting fully clothed in a bathtub. It should be fucking amusing or something." Finley stared at the wall and shook his head. "It isn't. It's not funny."

"No," Ben agreed. "It isn't."

Finley was silent again, hunched over a bit. He looked at his brother and Ben couldn't read his eyes. "I'm getting out now."

Finley was shaking as he stood. Ben helped support him, the wet clothes clinging uncomfortably to his skin. The air against them made him shiver again. Finley clenched a towel around himself as Ben went to get him new clothing, keeping the wet clothes on until he got back.

Getting him dressed again was touchy. He held the towel so tightly around himself his knuckles turned white and, after Ben pulled the long sleeved shirt over his head, he was so hasty to pull it the rest of the way on he accidentally dropped the towel into the still full bathtub. That was followed by a robe and then he stepped out of the cooling water.

The soaked sweat pants were replaced with boxers and flannel pj pants their uncle had bought him. Socks, which he hadn't worn into the tub, were put on, followed by slippers. Finley's feet ached badly when they were cold.

He managed to eat most of his dinner; mashed potatoes and cream of chicken soup of all things. He even managed to keep it down. Ben kept him talking about stupid little things that wouldn't upset him but Finley was agitated, Ben could tell, and he worried that the food wouldn't stay down once he went to sleep and the nightmares started. Dinner was the meal he was most likely to lose.

They talked for awhile, of light things, of what their cousins were up to, and watched a bit of television, some sitcom that didn't make Finley laugh and Ben wasn't really paying attention to but it was better than something that would upset him. Finley was too tired to argue about it; evening therapy sessions always drained him that way.

When he rested his head on Ben's shoulder, Ben shut the tv off and reached up to touch his hair gently. "Fin?"

"Yeah?"

"Tired enough to go to bed?" Ben asked.

Finley moved, rubbing his cheek against Ben's shoulder gently, and opened his slightly fuzzy eyes. "Yeah, think so."

It was early but Ben got ready for bed with Finley, plugging in the seashell nightlight and turning off the other lights before lying down next to him as Finley curled up tightly on his side. Ben grimaced. That wasn't a good sign. He rubbed Finley's back gently, trying to get him to relax, frowning when he didn't.

It was a rare thing for Finley to be able to get to sleep if someone, someone being Ben or Irving, wasn't there to lay down with him. He couldn't settle otherwise and being agitated meant he threw up dinner or brought on a headache or a panic attack. He 't do it yet. But on most nights the lights didn't have to be on full blast; they had managed to get down to a nightlight.

How settled Finley was after he had been asleep maybe twenty minutes determined where Ben slept for the night. If he was sleeping relatively peacefully, and Finley had never been a sound sleeper in contrast to his brother who could put his head down somewhere sort of soft and be asleep, then Ben used the couch; if Finley was overly restless then Ben stayed with him, knowing there would be nightmares and Finley would need him.

It was...stressful. Ben loved Finley more than anyone and anything but it was hard. Being with Finley, having to always take care of him...It was tiring, as much as Ben hated to admit it. Just the constant loss of sleep combined with Ben's demanding job made things difficult and when added to the constant emotional stress from seeing Finley so...off constantly...Ben would have been headed for a break down himself if it weren't for their uncle.

If Irving hadn't been there to share the burden, and Ben hated thinking of Finley's needs that way, Ben wasn't sure what he would have done. When Finley got comfortable enough in their uncle's company, Ben took at least one night a week at the hotel Irving was staying in. Irving made sure Ben always had a little time to himself in the day, either taking Finley out to do something small or giving Ben the chance to go out for a couple hours.

Irving, on Dr. Mallan's suggestion, was slowly getting Finley out of the apartment and helping him adjust to the world again. Ben was not supposed to participate in that. He didn't help. He had become Finley's crutch and if Finley showed the slightest hint of distress Ben hustled him away from the world again, trying to protect him. Irving knew just when and how far to push and wasn't going to call it quits when Finley's shoulders tensed a little.

They went for walks in the city park or to the library at first, places they wouldn't run into many people, then they progressed to the grocery store or the mall on a weekday morning then the art gallery or the museum downtown...just little things that exposed Finley to other people again; his world had shrunk a bit. Irving had been talking about trying a movie, more people, darker, more flashes, but public transit had been a disaster and now he was away so they were going to put it off, for awhile at least.

Finley, on a good day, had called them his big adventures with a wry smile. Ben had laughed and, just for a second, remembered clearly who his brother had once been.

"Ben?" Finley said quietly.

"Yeah, Fin?"

"I'm...I just..." Finley paused, silent for a few moments. "Thank you. I don't know if I say it enough."

Ben smiled softly, hauled himself up on one elbow and pressed a kiss to his brother's forehead. Finley opened his eyes and looked up at him in the half dark and smiled very thinly. Ben lay back on his back, staring at the ceiling while Finley remained curled on his side. Ben knew he wasn't sleeping yet.

"You want me to read to you?" Ben asked.

Ben saw him nod against the pillow. "Sometimes I...You know I don't like silence I...It...Sometimes when it's too quiet I can still hear them coming down the hall and it's like I'm back there and...I just start thinking about it and..."

Ben swallowed. He knew the and then, and then Finley lost it.

"It...It doesn't happen when you're here but...I still don't like it, the quiet," Finley finished.

Ben kept a hand on Finley's back, leaned over the bed and grabbed at a book, switching the light on low. He wasn't exactly what one could call an avid reader but Finley always had been and it was something that he could still do. It was also something Ben could give him now to soothe him.

"Once a friend had told me it was only when I was drunk that I seemed to know exactly what I wanted. And so, two months later, in the midst of a farewell party in my growing wilderness—dancing, balancing a wine glass on my forehead and falling to the floor and getting up without letting it tip, a trick which seemed only possible when I was drunk and relaxed—I knew I was already running..."

* * *

"I know what being crazy is like," Finley said. His hands were trembling so badly ash fell from the end of his cigarette as he took another drag. He didn't notice. "You don't want to be crazy rather than anything."

Alexander said nothing for a few moments. He moved his hand to Finley's face, touching his cheek. Finley flinched but didn't pull away. Alexander turned his face gently to meet the shuttered eyes.

"I love you," he said simply.

Finley swallowed, blinked rapidly to clear his eyes.

"Why aren't you seeing Dr. Mallan anymore?" Alexander asked.

Finley blinked and looked at him. "She had to retire. She had a massive heart attack and had to. How did you...?"

"Ben," Alexander answered. "He told me your doctor's name."

"Oh," Finley shrugged. "We looked around, after she retired. He was one of her recommendations for me. I...He's not as good as she was, not when it comes to me, but he's not bad, best there was, really."

Alexander raised an eyebrow. "The only things I've heard you say about him are negative."

Finley grimaced. "I've only talked to you about him after sessions and I'm not particularly charitable after them. They are never...easy for me."

Alexander hesitantly touched the soft hair at the back of Finley's neck, kneading gently when he didn't flinch away. "You've been...rough after the therapy sessions since we met."

Finley smiled humourlessly. "Yeah, I've been kind of pissed at him. He questioned my ability to handle a relationship and wanted to know if I wanted to go back to weekly or bi-monthly sessions. I don't know, maybe he was right, in a way, look at how well I dealt it when...yeah."

"When I was being an idiot and an ass," Alexander supplied.

Finley smiled slightly. "Yeah, well, I didn't respond to well to being questioned about that. He does help me, Dr. Walker; he's better than anyone else we tried and we did try. I'm a slut when it comes to shrinks, I don't know, I'm thinking maybe I should increase the number of sessions again."

"Why did he think you weren't ready for a relationship?" Alexander asked.

"Dependency issues," Finley shrugged. "You've seen the effects now. He didn't really approve of my one night stands either but I think he might've preferred those to me getting involved with someone."

Alexander snorted. Finley shrugged again. "He's not wrong, not entirely. We've worked on my independence for so long and I'm not there yet. If it wasn't you...I just don't know. You're different, because I love you, because of all this past life stuff that there is to deal with, because you're just you. I don't know but I...can't let myself do this again, get so dependant I can't function on my own."

Alexander was silent; Finley kept going. "It's something I have to work at just...I don't...I don't want to need you, I want to want you, you know?"

Alexander grimaced and nodded slowly. "So what should we do? What do you want?"

"I don't know," Finley answered. "Just understand it, okay? When I need space and stuff. That'd help me the most, I think."

He paused a moment, rubbed a tired hand over his eyes. "I can't...I don't _want_ to lose you. I love you."

"You won't," Alexander told him. "I don't want to lose you either; I came too close to already. Any way I can help you I will; don't be afraid to tell me when you do need it, whether help is giving you space or whatever. I love you, Fin, not like I love anyone else and I've never loved lightly as it is. You're stuck with me until you don't want me anymore."

Finley looked at him with soft eyes, tilted his head and kissed him gently, shortly, on the lips. "That won't be happening any time soon."

* * *

The exert that Ben reads is from a absolutely fabulous book called "Running in the Family" by the wonderful Michael Ondaatije. I reccomend it and everything he's written to everyone. I don't travel without at least one of his books.

athelas63: Yes, for once no suffereing but we're back to it this chapter. Next chapter will be another break from suffering and also the reappearance of Evan and the appearance of a new character too! ;-) Hope the flashback wasn't too bad...

LadyBush: He's real. I'm not sure how it works but apparantly it does. He tries not to interfere with Finley's life but sometimes it becomes necessary. They'll be getting more in tune with each other now that Fin has the memories. And yay for noticing the Indiana Jones reference! First movie notice I've put in that's been picked up on.

faceted-mind: Technically it's not Faramir/Aragorn because Faramir and Aragorn were never romantically involved in this...just their reincarnations. I'm glad you're enjoying it so far!

Someone Stupid: Actually, it looks like people guess wrong with the she's...which I left as shes on purpose instead of clarifying completely. She is Annie who remembers because she was half-elven, not Edain.

Seadragon: You've got it a little mixed up. The Rohirrim are so stubborn they don't remember anything. It's Annie, or Arwen, who remembers everything in detail and always has. It's the Elven blood that relates most to memory...but Eowyn and Eomer had a little Elven blood through Morwen of Gondor so there's more of a change for memory there than say, from Gama or someone. Annie has told Eve everything though but not Evan. Evan took such good care of Fin just because he likes him.

Elenhin: With Faramir...he is drawing from 120 years experience here and during the majority of that time he was a father, assuming Eowyn andFaramir didn't wait too long to have Elboronand siblings (however many you want to imagine) which I don't think they didso...Yeah, older brother would be a good way of how he thinks of Fin!

LadyJanelly: It's lovely to see them cuddling, isn't it? I'm glad they've stopped fighting finally, I always knew they would I just wasn't sure how long it was going to take.

Catherine Maria: gets a very long responce for three reviews! Okay...

11-Dark, but particularly, quiet is hard for Finley to deal with, less so at this point but still hard if he's upset and/or had a nightmare. I figured Fin and Faramir should met in dreams, what with Faramir being the dreamer of the Hurin family and all it seemed to fit. I wanted to make it semi-clear that Aragorn and Faramir were not romantically involved but did love each other very much. By the end of Faramir's life, in the way I see them at least, Aragorn and Faramir were best friends and were family (even in blood alittle because the Steward family is an offshot of the royal line). There wasn't anything they wouldn't do for each other but they were both in love with their wives.

12-Got into a big discussion with this with someone else, about the medical limits in middle earth. There's the idea of mythical or energy healing by the King and Elrond and such but the amount of damage done to Fin required extensive surgery that likely couldn't have been accomplished plus they had to deal with the drugs that had been used on him, which was a large part of the problem. I figure Faramir wouldn't have survived something similiar because there wouldn't have been adequate treatment for his wounds BUT that there may have been a change depending on the calbier of healer because the drugs used would have been limited to those of middle earth as well. I didn't think of the Matrix connection but it certainly works!

13-Mix up! Annie remembers fully, not Eve, though Eve knows because Annie told her. It's not as weird for Annie because Alexander is her cousin so...no hope there! Plus, lesbian so no attraction which also helps. Boromir will make an appearance though in a different manner than Faramir did. Boromir only ever had one dream, after all. :-)


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"Here."

Finley took the offered water bottle, feeling the moisture on it already from the hot air. "Thanks."

"Drink it all soon," Alexander told him. Finley cocked an eyebrow at him. "Don't want to cart you off to the hospital because you get heat stroke."

"Yes sir," Finley replied but he was smiling.

"You know, I never took you as a beach volleyball fan," Alexander said, then paused. "Actually I didn't know there were beach volleyball fans."

Finley chuckled. "I probably wouldn't be one except Teresa plays professionally and she talks your ear off about it if you give her half a chance. Give her long enough and she'll convert you."

Beside him Evan snorted. How he had come to be here on his day off was anyone's guess, he certainly didn't understand it. Only... Finley was letting people in, again, and Evan wouldn't turn down the invitation on that basis.

The women in sports bikinis warming up on the court in front of the stands were a bonus but the only other enjoyable one he saw. He was not a fan of beaches.

"So which is your cousin?" he asked as the match got started. Finley said he would introduce them after the match, you didn't disturb players when they were warming up.

"There, Canada 2," Finley said. "That's Thiri."

Evan looked to where Finley was pointed and saw a glimpse of dark blue eyes and dark hair. The sun made his eyes see a dim glow about her and the water reflected a thousand sparkles that were mirrored in her eyes. She tossed her long hair, wind whipping it up, and laughed, sea spray roaring up from the rocks behind her, the salt of the air in his mouth and the taste of the spray on his skin.

Evan blinked. The water was behind them, the stands, and was calm, there weren't any rocks for miles down either side of the beach. She had shorter hair, tied tightly back in bobbed pigtails and sunglasses were covering her eyes. She wasn't laughing but concentrating hard, bent in preparation for the serve, wearing a red sport bikini with CAN and 2 emblazoned on it.

"Aw, crap, they're not going to beat them. What a team to draw!" Finley was saying. "May and Walsh are undefeated for something like a hundred games now. Come on Thiri!"

Thiri got the ball, it was set up, she spiked it and the other team, in blue, dug it, tipped it over and... point May and Walsh, USA.

"At least they didn't have to take on the other Canadian team," Finley said. "They hate it when the draw sets them up to face Martin and Dumont. They train together and don't like knocking it each other out of the tournament. Not that Teresa and Julie can beat them..."

The whistle blew and Finley swore. Point, May Walsh.

The American team won, though Teresa and Julie put up as good a fight as could be fought against such titans. They hung back as the crowds trickled out of the stands, there was a crowd around both athletes' tables, getting autographs and asking for the jerseys the players had to keep for their next matches. Teresa looked for Finley in the crowd, spotted him still in the stands and waved briefly before signing the back of a volunteer's shirt. A couple people glanced in their direction and, seeing no one of interest, quickly went back to getting their autographs.

The crowd around Julie and Teresa dispersed much quicker than the one around May and Walsh but the two women didn't seem to mind much. Teresa grabbed her towel and laughed at something her volley-ball partner said as the three of them filed out of the stands but as soon as Finley's feet were on the sand she strode over and launched herself into his arms in a full body hug. He had to stagger back to support her weight.

"Hi, Thiri," Finley said, chuckling.

"You ass! You could have given me some fucking warning!" Teresa laughed. She shoved her feet down into the sand, hopped once and hugged him hard again.

"Breathing is good, Thiri," Finley told her.

That got a laugh and a hard kiss to the cheek. A kiss with a touch of teeth, Finley felt, before she pulled away and thumped him on the back as hard as any of her brothers would. "Bloody bastard! You don't write for frigging months but you show up where-ever-the-hell USA to watch me get my ass handed to me. If you didn't bring this him I've been hearing about from the gossip queens that are my brothers I'm going to have to send Chirion at you. Now which one is he?"

Teresa had turned and was studying Evan and Alexander with an intensity she normally used at art museums. That counted as quite a lot, Finley knew, she had a masters in fine art which had started as a bachelors in veterinary sciences; he had never understood the switch.

Evan took a quick step back and Finley almost laughed. He didn't need to see Teresa's eyes to know what kind of look she had there. She was the best and worst of both her parents. Her father was one of the calmest, surest men Finley had ever met, and once upon a time he had been told he was just like his uncle, but that aspect of Irving was deceptive and before you knew what hit you he had talked you, smiling, into a corner where you had to agree with him. Riling his temper made him seem, suddenly, very un-Canadian but that didn't happen often. Her mother was neon bright and just a little crazy. Their children were never a reflection of either but a mixture of both and it was, sometimes, a little scary.

Or at least it would have been had Finley not known each one of them were fierce as mother bears when it came to him. He was older than all of his cousins but from the way they protected him you wouldn't know it. It half made sense to him, they were all well adjusted members of society, or if not that at least healthy and happier than most, and he, quite simply, wasn't. They didn't need help to survive, despite how much their father worried, worried and cursed them and loved them.

"This is Alexander, Thiri," Finley introduced, stepping forward to take Alexander's hand. "My cousin, Teresa."

"I'm sure he's given you all manner of warning about me. Believe nothing he says. It's all true, but it's easier for me if you don't believe it," Teresa told him. She stuck out her hand for him to shake, Finley was in the way of giving flying hugs or brain squeezes and he knew it too, the bastard.

Alexander laughed, his eyes were smiling and Teresa decided she liked him enough to give him a wink. "I'd say I know a lot about you but Finley doesn't tell me a damn thing and my brothers know well enough to shut their big mouths when I'm around. I've had to snoop a bit. Helps that I'm bloody good at snooping. So when do I get to interrogate you?"

"Don't you have matches or something, Thiri? You know, your career?" Finley teased. He felt a bit of relief. If Teresa hadn't liked Alexander she would have been polite, quieter and without the look of satisfaction about her.

"Matched with the Brazilians at four, should be able to get a profile out of you by then," Teresa offered with a smile that bordered on predatory and teasing.

Finley winced. Not at his cousin, but for her. The Brazilians, any of them at the tournament, were a formidable team and Teresa and Julie had already lost a match. Teresa didn't seem bothered, she rarely was, her eyes were already fixed on the other man with them. Evan knew it and shifted once before straightening himself.

Teresa had no idea who he was but something about him felt warm, almost familiar, and she knew right away she was glad he wasn't Finley's Alexander. "And this is?"

Finley raised an eyebrow. Teresa caught it but ignored it. Silly man, she hadn't been phased by her father's evil eye since she was eight and her grandmother's, and that was something to contend with!, since she was fifteen. A raised eyebrow was hardly her concern when she had what looked like a cowboy in front of her.

"Evan," the man himself offered gruffly. Alexander followed her eyes to his friend and was caught unprepared for the sudden blush mostly hidden by a developing sunburn.

She launched herself at him without warning. Finley had been half expecting it and wondering absently what her father would say if he had been there. Evan, luckily, managed to catch her.

"Lovely to meet you, Evan. Call me Thiri," she offered. Evan didn't say anything but yelped as she nipped his shoulder. He did not, Finley observed, drop her when she did.

She was on her own feet again before Evan had his wits again, smiling open mouthed like a dolphin. "I've got to talk to my coach and Julie, go over the massacre quick. Give me half and I'll treat to this great little Thai place some of the Yank players have been on about. I'll meet you under the scoreboard."

She winked at Finley and Alexander, grinned at Evan, who stared at her as if she was completely nuts and was off before she got a reply, grabbing her duffle bag and towel on the way. Finley shook his head as her partner joined her and the two of them started chatting away, Julie glancing back once.

"She bit me!" Evan said, finally.

"Yeah, I probably should have warned you about that. I didn't think she'd do it yet. She greets people like that sometimes. It's like kissing someone on the cheek, I think. She likes you but didn't think you were reacting enough to her," Finley explained.

Evan stared. Finley chuckled. "No, I don't understand it either."

"She bites," Evan muttered, shaking his head.

"Are all your cousins this odd?" Alexander asked.

"They're odd. None of them are like Thiri though." Finley smiled. "I don't think anyone is quite like Thiri."

"Are they all teething?" Evan asked, rubbing at the spot her teeth had grazed. It didn't hurt it was just... weird.

Finley laughed. "No, only she does that. It's a compliment, believe me."

Evan shook his head again, looking bewildered. Finley sought out Alexander's eyes and winked at him. Alexander smiled suddenly, feeling as if Evan had just met his match. He wondered absently how long it would take him to figure it out or if Eve might have to whack him to get him to see it.

"So where are we meeting her?" Alexander asked. There were scoreboards everywhere.

"I'm assuming she meant the place where they list the matches too, under the sound booth," Finley offered. "We're out of the way there."

"Out of the way?" Evan gestured around. "There's no one here."

"The next match is a Brazilian team. It will fill up," Finley told him. "If they make it to the finals the drums are brought in."

Evan shook his head and followed Finley and Alexander to the scoreboard. It was right near the athletes' tent and medical booth. They could see Teresa chatting with her partner and coach from there. A couple players recognized and waved to Finley, two with Canadian jersey's, one with an Australian jersey. Two girls standing checking out the match schedules launched into furious whispering after a tall, lanky guy with shaggy blonde hair put his bag down in the athlete's tent.

"That's Conrad," the first, a short haired brunette with a Canada bucket hat whispered.

"Where?" the other, another brunette but with hair down to the small of her back, answered, looking around.

"There," she nudged. "There!"

"Him?" the second girl cocked her head. "Oh yeah, he looks much better in person."

"He's the most unphotogenic person in the world. He looks like a serial killer in his photos but in real life..." there was a sigh.

"He looks old, even for me, so what does that tell you?" the second teased.

"He is not, well, maybe, but I don't care. Eight years, Mandi, since I was twelve and I still want to melt into a puddle around him. You'd think that would lessen over the years, eh? He's just wonderful and lovely and his eyes..."

"So go say hi," the second challenged.

"I will. He recognizes me because I go to so many tournaments. Too bad I like his wife so much because I am legal now..."

"Wait, he's...Well hell, he does recognize you..."

The first girl, Evan noted, managed not to squee as she went over to talk with the volley-ball player of her dreams, apparently. Alexander, he noticed, was grinning and laughing under his breath.

They waited awhile, Finley getting fidgety as people streamed past them into the stands. Evan noticed Alexander had a hand on his arm, slowly rubbing circles over his wrist. Finally, Finley sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I need a smoke," he said. "They're in the car."

"Do you mind waiting, Evan?" Alexander asked. "She should be here soon."

"Sure, we'll meet you by the car then," Evan said.

Evan watched them go, leaning against the part of board that wasn't papered with results. It made him a bit jealous sometimes, Finley and Alexander, Eve and Annie, even Gail and Alan. If his sister ever found out he thought that she'd never let him hear the end of it. It was ridiculous, the wanna be romantic...

"Hiya cowboy."

Evan looked up and blinked. "What?"

"All you need is a piece of straw," Teresa told him with a giggle that ended in a snort. "Where's Fin-baby and the boyfriend?"

"Uh, Finley left his cigarettes in the car so they went to go get them," Evan answered.

"Finley went somewhere without his cigarettes? I'm shocked!" Teresa grinned. "Sign of the apocalypse! Repent now!"

Evan blinked and stared at her, a passer-by, who Evan guessed was another player judging by the... uniform, giggled and said something to her in French. Teresa replied with something Evan could tell was crude. The girl replied with another giggle and a blown kiss before she swished off.

Teresa smiled back at Evan. "Alright, not funny, over the top, lighten up, cowboy."

"You speak French?" Evan managed a grin. He had no idea what to make of this woman. "Full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Oh I'm crap at it but I had to take it in school and picked up a bit on the tour," Teresa admitted. "You want French go find Annie and Guilane they're the Quebecers. I picked up all the curses first, of course. Shall we?"

"You going to bite me again?" Evan asked without moving.

"Maybe," Teresa replied. "You might just be lucky that way."

* * *

"She's something else Fin," Alexander commented as Finley unlocked the door to their hotel room.

"She's off her fucking rocker, that's what she is," Finley corrected with a grin. "Wouldn't want her any different but she really is nuts."

Alexander laughed. "I think the last time I've seen Evan looked so stupefied was when he fell off a donkey in Phoenix."

"Is this the infamous Arizona incident?" Finley asked, shrugging off his light jacket, it was cool at night, and chucking it onto a chair. He stretched and sat on the end of the bed.

"Yes, but I'm not at liberty to say anymore. I've sworn an oath against divulging the information," Alexander told him, pulling his sweater over his head and tossing it next to Finley's jacket. "You'll have to pester Annie more."

"Or Thiri will get it out of Evan," Finley commented as Alexander knelt behind him on the bed and began kneading Finley's constantly tense shoulders. Finley gave a groan and let his head fall forward.

Alexander chuckled, "That wouldn't surprise me in the least. Evan doesn't know what he's in for, does he?"

"Not at all," Finley was quiet for a moment, his eyes closed. Thiri and Julie had lost to the Brazilians and then gone out to dinner with Finley, Alexander and Evan. Thiri had been shocked and appalled to find out Evan had understandably never heard of Great Big Sea. She had decided to remedy that, they just so happened to be playing in a town an hour away and Julie didn't really want to go anyway, did she? Knowing Thiri they wouldn't be back until morning.

"But as strong off as Thiri comes she's got as big a heart as the rest of her family. Can't help it, it's in her blood. They're different, all of them, and nuts too, but they just... love more than anyone I've ever met," Finley murmured.

Alexander said nothing but leaned forward to whisper a kiss against Finley's ear and kept massaging his shoulders, slowly coaxing the tight muscles to relax. Finley concentrated on relaxing a moment before he spoke, "My uncle wants to meet you. He wants me to come up for Christmas, because he knows Ben won't be around, and he wants to meet you."

"I think," Alexander told him, "that I'm more nervous about meeting your uncle than I was about meeting Ben."

"He's more protective of me in his own way," Finley smiled faintly. "I've always been Ben's little brother. Somewhere along the line I became my uncle's son as well, he adopted us in his head and heart somewhere along the line. He treats me like it now, has since I first went to Nova Scotia after I came back. I think it was then I started to think of him as my father too."

"I always know I'm safe with him, even when he pushes me to do what frightens the hell out of me I know," Finley continued. "I don't know what I would have happened if it weren't for Ben and him. I don't like thinking about it."

"Don't then," Alexander coaxed. "Don't."

Finley turned his head to look at Alexander as his hands moved, gently, in more of a caress than a massage against his neck, then into his hair, and kissed him softly. There had been something half unsure about their intimate touches since they had come back from Ben's. It lingered here, all that, and Finley wanted it to stop.

He kissed back, hard, with much more than comfort flavouring his touches. He had missed this, as they fell into the familiar way of touching, he had missed this way they had first known each other. He didn't want to be half unsure anymore.

Alexander drew back with a sudden reluctance. "Fin..."

"Alex, I want this," Finley murmured, eyes intent on his. "I want to feel nothing but passion when I touch you, not this lingering guilt or whatever the fuck that we've kept up. I forgave you already. I want this back."

Alexander's expression was unreadable but his hands had enough words in them to fill libraries and his lips had more as he kissed Finley, softly at first then with all the hunger of a starved man. They fell into it, both of them, until nothing mattered but the sweat of their shared bodies.

* * *

_Author's Note: For those of you who didn't pick it up, Teresa "Thiri" is Lothiriel who just waltzed in and took over the place. She is based upon an amazing woman I know who actually bites people in greeting. This is also the chapter where my beta and I made a quick cameo a fangrrrls. Well I did. Conrad…sigh Conrad is a real beach volleyball player who I have been in love with for 8 years. All the beach players except Julie and Thiri are real players; I'm just using their names._

_Also, I thought I should let everyone know that this story is winding up. There are only a few more chapters until the end BUT there will be a sequel after I'm done school. I have too many classes this semester to start it right away but it will be written, don't worry!_

LadyJanelly: Glad you liked the flashback and no it's not bad. I'm rather fond of them myself by now!

LadyBush: Don't worry, you're making sense and I'm glad you liked it. Yes, Fin and Alex are really, finally back on track now. :-)

Liz: Boromir will certainly make an appearance but he doesn't quite do it in the way Faramir did. Remember, Boromir only ever had one dream… Mystery man was a one shot. Just flitted by and didn't even leave a name. We may see something more of Denethor and of Fin's father…and that should give you a tip to why he's like that without the palantir right there.

Chibi-Kaz: Thanks again for the fic bunny though I've managed to shoo him away for the time being!


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Notes: Sorry this is a week late! Life...yeah, just yeah. There will be two more chapters after this and then a sequel will be started once I'm done school.**

**If you read this please take the time to leave a review. It's been a bad week and this one isn't looking to be much better and feedback always cheers me up!**

**Chapter 16**

Finley disliked taking buses and subways. Buses were worse because they gave him motion sickness on top of being smelly, crowded and always either too hot or too cold. The subway wasn't bad, he didn't feel sick on it at least, but he didn't enjoy it either.

He had woken up alone, which he didn't enjoy much either, not anymore at least, and the faint trace of a headache tingling at his temple. Advil, food and a smoke had chased it off but he still felt a bit wonky. Alexander was in New York for just over two weeks visiting his brother, whose youngest child was being christened. Finley had been invited but he hadn't wanted to miss his therapy sessions, upped to two a month. He'd be missing quite a few soon as it was.

Still, there was a message from Alexander on his machine. A very muddled Alexander saying something about delays and cancellations and he had found another flight but he would be late and that was the last fucking time he attended a christening and his brother, goddamn it, could just stop having children, three was enough click.

Second message. He was home, by the way, he'd call in the morning, later in the day, whatever.

The orange plastic of the train seats indicated its age. The newer ones were red and were a fabric of some sort. Finley briefly wondered why they replaced them with fabric when it was harder to clean and gave his seat up to an older women balancing too many shopping bags. He stood next to the door.

A small black fluffy dog chased an empty water bottle passed him, yapping. Finley blinked and shook his head.

It walked back with its bounty, tail sticking straight upright then dropping at the end with the weight of its fur.

Finley's eyes followed it back to its owner. The scruffy looking man held another little puff ball dog, this one a brown-orange colour, and had four pudgy puppies in a duffle bag on the next seat. A cream coloured puff dog stayed on the floor beside the seat, licking a purple-coated woman's hand.

The puppies were bigger than the little adult dogs, making Finley wonder at their parentage. They wriggled in the duffle bag, two cream heads poking out one side, a orange-black face peaking out against a black strap and a brown fuzzy body managing to squirm out of its green fabric confinement.

The scruffy man picked it up and put it into his shirt, the furry face sticking out of his collar, pink tongue visible for a moment before it renewed its escape attempts. Finley had the sudden impulse to ask if they were for sale.

Then he remembered he hated little dogs. Hated the yapping, and the scraping of their nails on the floor and their breath and the time they consumed. He was actually more of a cat person but if he had been interested in buying a dog, and he wasn't, he would've wanted a larger one though he didn't think that would work too well in his apartment.

The doors chimed his stop and he got off, walking the few blocks to Alexander's house instead of transferring to a bus. He let himself in.

The house was quiet, jarred by a clatter as Finley tossed his keys on the table in the front hall and locked the front door behind him. Alexander was upstairs sleeping, not surprising given the hour he had gotten in at.

Alexander was laying on his stomach, one foot and calf sticking out from under the plain comforter. His dark hair tumbled over his bristled face and his visible bare shoulders moved shallowly as he breathed. He was snoring slightly. Finley hesitated in the bedroom door but only for a moment. The man lying tangled in the sheets was too tempting.

Alexander made a garbled noise as Finley crawled in beside him, shedding his boxers as he went. Alexander hogged the covers but he liked to snuggle so much it hardly mattered. He always ended up curled around Finley somehow, bringing the covers with him.

He rolled over, flung an arm out and tried to pull him close as Finley settled beside him. Tiny frown lines appeared between his eyes until Finley had shuffled closer and settled next to him, close enough that Alexander could nuzzle his cheek against Finley's shoulder blades.

Then Alexander relaxed and began to make the snuffling snoring sounds that told Finley he had a cold. Finley's lips curled upwards and he turned in the loose embrace, freeing a hand, touching his lover's face gently. Alexander slept on. Finley sighed, closed his eyes, and joined him.

He woke again to the smell of coffee, the warmth of a hand splayed out over the worst scars on his back, and the huff of Alexander's breathing against his arm, which was stretched above his head. Alexander knew he was awake almost before Finley did and stretched to drop a kiss into his palm.

"Morning," Alexander greeted.

Finley rolled onto his back and Alexander's hand slid over his body onto his stomach. Finley's head flopped to the side and he opened his eyes to look at his lover. "It is still?"

"Don't know," Alexander smiled, propped himself up on his elbows and leaned down to kiss Finley. He tasted like coffee and, faintly, toothpaste.

Alexander grinned at Finley and shifted, the soft skin of his thigh sliding into place against his, the hand on his stomach creeping lower. Finley quirked an eyebrow at him and shivered.

"I woke up curled around you for the first time in too long. I don't give a flying fuck what time it is," Alexander said cheerfully, hair falling about his face.

Finley reared up and kissed him. Words became unnecessary.

* * *

Sometimes Finley wondered at himself, sitting nearly naked in Alexander's house as he did. Alexander was making breakfast, it was past lunch but he was making breakfast in the nude.

Alexander was naked whenever he could get away with it, a quirk that had been subdued as they slowly grew accustomed to each other again. Finley, now, occasionally, did too. With Alex only. And the doors locked and never quite completely naked. But Finley wondered at sitting around in his underwear and a t-shirt, even, because at one point not so long ago he could hardly stand being naked to bathe.

He looked up as Alexander put a plate down in front of him and smiled. "I'll never eat this much, you know."

"I know," Alexander smiled; dumping what Finley thought was far too much maple syrup on his blueberry pancakes. The artificial crap. Finley put a smaller amount of real maple syrup on his own pancakes.

Alexander chuckled around a mouthful. "Elitist."

Finley sniffed. "That stuff is horrible."

"It's sweeter," Alexander replied.

"It's fake," Finley countered. "So, how was it?"

"The baby screamed bloody murder the entire time," Alexander told him. "Danny looked embarrassed by it, he'd gone on and on about how good this one was, never cried like his sisters, never kept them up all night long and, really, that was the only time I saw the kid do more than sniffle the entire trip."

Finley laughed and Alexander smiled at him. "Danny says he was sorry you couldn't come and that he looks forward to meeting us when we stop by after Christmas."

Finley smiled thinly. Alexander nudged his knee under the table and Finley met his eyes. "He'll like you, don't worry. Izzie is the only person in the family that's so paranoid."

"Does she still call me a gold digger?" Finley asked. Alexander sighed and nodded. "Why? Why is she like that?"

Alexander shrugged. "She had some bad experiences through high school with friends who weren't really friends and... I don't know. She doesn't trust people easily anymore and it's worse because you don't have a career or something. That's her problem though, not yours, Fin. It's... Danny and I both had some idea where we were going in life, what we wanted, she never did and still doesn't. She's off to learn French this month, next month it will be something else and she doesn't know how to deal with that in herself so when she sees it in other people..."

"She has a problem with Annie too because Annie doesn't work. Annie doesn't need to work and doesn't want to. She does a lot of volunteer work but she likes travelling with Eve and being able to pick up and go when she wants. She makes that work for herself, Izzie can't, she said it makes her feel guilty," Alexander sighed. "If you were anyone with less money than our parents have she would not trust you but she's even worse because she sees part of you that she doesn't like in herself."

Finley snorted, "It isn't like I would like to be able to hold even a fucking minimum wage job..."

"I know, Fin," Alexander said. "I'm not justifying what she does. I can't and I wouldn't if I could. That's how she justifies it to herself but Danny isn't like Izzie. He likes most people he meets outside of a work environment. He's not going to dislike you on the same basis that Izzie does. He's more like my mother."

Finley shrugged, toying with the left over pancake and a half that he had known from the start he wouldn't manage to eat. "I've gotten used to it, people thinking I'm lazy or whatever because I don't work. It's too much of a bother to explain everything and even then it won't always shake their perceptions."

Alexander frowned at the acceptance in Finley's voice. "That...should bother you more."

"It used to," Finley replied, smiling sadly. "Gets tiring. The people who are worth it understand eventually even if they don't at first. I'm just lucky that I do have people who love me and are there to take care of me when I...can't."

Alexander reached over the table and put his hand on Finley's. Finley's smile brightened slightly, looking at him and he squeezed back.

* * *

"Relax, it's only my uncle," Finley told Alexander as they stood waiting for Alexander's bag.

"Your uncle is more intimidating than Ben," Alexander replied, smiling as he felt Finley fingers curl around his. "I hope they didn't lose my luggage. Air lines always manage to lose my luggage."

Finley smiled, leaning against him slightly as they waited. Most of the luggage had already been claimed, there were just a few forlorn pieces circling. Not Alexander's but someone had just come by and said there were a few more pieces that were being unloaded. A truck had been caught briefly in a snow bank.

Finley was tired. He took a mild sedative to fly, travelling, especially flying, could do wonky things to him. He was still a bit wonky from it, would be for a few more hours, but it was a low doze and he was coherent. The pills he used to have to take would hit him so hard he needed help to stand.

"Thank God, there it is." Alexander moved away from Finley for a second to haul his battered black suitcase from the belt. He knew for sure it was his from the daisy Annie had stitched onto it when he wasn't paying attention so he would always be able to find it.

"How many times have you lost your suitcase?" Finley asked, grinning, leaning into Alexander again.

"I never lose it. The airlines always manage to," Alexander grumbled, he kept one hand around Finley's waist, pulling his suitcase behind him with the other. It was odd, walking like that but Finley was half asleep again and it made him feel safer being close to someone when he was so out of it.

"Hmm," Finley replied.

Alexander smiled and kissed his forehead. "Come on; let's go get this over with."

"He'll like you," Finley told Alexander as he let go of him to hand the customer's women their custom's card and were waved through. "Don't worry so much..."

"Finley!"

"Uncle!"

Alexander recognized him from the pictures Finley had of him, of their family. Irving was a tall man and stood with a posture that showed off his inborn grace before he even moved. He had dark hair, like Finley, though grey streaked his temples. His eyes were a stormy grey, like rain clouds over water where Finley's were smoky grey. Irving's features were softer than Finley's sharp features, chiselled but without the hint of the same past sufferings.

Finley was enfolded in a tight embrace as soon as he got within an arm's length of Irving; nabbed and held tightly by the man who never stopped worrying about him. And Finley relaxed completely, like he did with Ben, like he was starting to half do with Alexander, because this man would never let anything hurt him.

"Was the flight okay?" Irving asked, ignoring the boyfriend momentarily. Finley came first as much as his own children did.

"Fine," Finley told him. "Slept for most of it."

"You look half asleep now, Fin," Irving said, a chuckle in his deep voice.

"Yeah, still a bit that way, I need a smoke," Finley murmured before pulling out of his uncle's arms and finding Alexander's hand. "Uncle, this is Alex; Alex my Uncle."

Irving extended a hand for Alexander's free one; his arm had slipped around Finley's waist again. "Irving."

"I'm glad to meet you," Alexander said honestly. Finley was getting heavier against him; Irving glanced at him, his face soft. A more thorough introduction would have to wait.

"Come on, let's get him home. I'm getting too old to be carrying him up to bed."

Alexander woke up before Finley the next day. Finley was sleeping with unusual heaviness. Drugs outside his normal regime did that to him. He had a prescription for sleeping pills but hated taking them, wouldn't take them if at all possible. The sedatives he could take with his other medications really knocked him on his ass.

The car ride to Irving's home was interesting. He had directed Alexander and Finley into the back of the car, a good idea as Finley promptly dozed off against Alexander. They hadn't spoken much. Alexander wasn't sure what to think of Irving, except to know that his initial reaction was to like the man, and didn't think Irving knew entirely what to think of him, except to know he was a possible source of love or hurt for Finley, the latter making him uneasy.

Alexander knew, as well, that part of him recognized Irving from the past but knew that Irving didn't remember. Irving just was. He was too much of his past self to recognize the difference between them.

They would have to wait and see where to go from there.

* * *

Finley stirred against him as Alexander's hands traced lazy stroke on his back. Alexander knew the moment he actually came awake, felt the constant tenseness steal back over his lover's body. Finley didn't move a moment, then blinked, turned to look at Alexander and smiled hazily.

"I'm guessing he doesn't hate you too much if he let us sleep in the same bed," Finley commented. "See, I told you there was nothing to worry about."

Alexander chuckled, rubbed his fingers gently against Finley's neck. "How are you feeling?"

"Groggy," Finley admitted, sitting up beside him and scrubbing a hand over his forehead. He sat still a moment, frowning faintly. "I need to brush my teeth."

Alexander chuckled, his hand on the small of Finley's back. Finley felt his lips twitch into a smile. "My cousins will be here soon. We'd know if they were here already."

"Are they really that bad?" Alexander asked.

"Think of Thiri," Finley instructed. "Now think of her times four."

* * *

"Where's Chirion?"

"Chuck me that..."

"No throwing things, either of you."

"It's just a pillow, pops, calm down."

"And there's a vase of your great-grandmother's behind you. No throwing things."

"When do we get to open tonight's present?"

"Chirion isn't here yet."

"He's always late though!"

"Stop whining."

"Bite me, big shot."

"Enough. If you don't start acting your age instead of your shoe size I'll send you both to your..."

"CHIRION!"

"Where've ya been, Chirion? Thiri was getting impatient."

"Like you weren't, Roo!"

"You are an hour late, Charlie."

"Charlie? You feeling alright, El?"

Alexander stayed where he was through the scuffles and flurry of Roth children stampeding to the front door and the clamour of laughing voices that raised in the fuzz.

"Chirion?" Alexander asked.

"Charles," Finley told him. "Thiri has always called him Chirion and it just stuck. I don't understand why it just is."

Alexander smiled and shook his head. The Roth's were a mixed bunch of nuts that was for sure.

Charles "Chirion" Roth was a solid man, broader than Irving if just slightly (slightly what?) than Ben. He was light where all his siblings were dark with dusky blonde hair and bright brown eyes bordering on amber, a booming laugh and a ready smile. The look he gave Alexander was the same he had received upon meeting every male member of the family; cautious welcome and a warning. He was very glad they didn't know his earlier history with Finley; he would have been thrashed within an inch of his life.

All this was conveyed through a moment of a look over Finley's shoulder as Charles gave him a surprisingly gentle hug. They were big on hugs, this family, even Elijah, the eldest brother, who didn't know what to make of his younger siblings half the time.

"I," he announced, "have arranged a surprise for you, Fin."

Finley looked at him quizzically and Irving raised an eyebrow at him. Charles motioned for everyone to stay and returned the eyebrow with a cheeky grin before leaving. A door opened down the hall and there was a low murmur of voices and rustling in the hall, disturbed by Arthur plopping down beside his sister.

"So who is this Evan I've been hearing about?" Arthur asked, flopping gracefully onto the couch without so much as sloshing his beer in the slightest.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Teresa replied, flipping through her magazine and not looking at her brother.

"Of course not, I'm assuming you had a good time then," Arthur continued.

"You can assume anything you'd like," Teresa commented with a hint of a smile.

"And will we be seeing more of this man?" Arthur asked.

"Cowboys are a lot of fun..." Teresa looked up, stuck her tongue out and whacked him with the magazine. Arthur managed to stabilize the beer.

"I guess those horse riding lessons were actually worth something," Elijah tossed in.

Teresa smirked at him. "Who said anything about a horse?"

"Ahem," Charles cleared his throat to regain their attention and save Elijah's face from going purple. "Merry early Christmas, Fin."

"Christ, Chirion, you're as overly dramatic as the rest of them!" Ben declared as he stepping into view, grinning. "Hello, uncle, Merry Christmas."

His eyes were on Finley as he said it, trying to be polite and not succeeding further than that as Finley rose. Instead he strode across the room and met him halfway, wrapping him in a hug. The cousins had enough restraint to let Finley step away before mobbing his brother, talking over each other, even Elijah, at him. Irving gave him half a second to breathe before following with his own hard hug.

"I thought you were going to be out of state over Christmas?" Irving said.

Ben sat beside Finley, stopped himself from curling an arm around his brother because Alexander already had one there. He was still getting used to that.

"There was a problem with about half of the recruits that were supposed to arrive. They've run into a heap of discipline trouble and they don't want to send them on this training exercise before the hearing is done," Ben shrugged. "It's too great a number not to thoroughly check out their rest of them so the exercise has been postponed. I managed to scramble and get leave."

"For how long?" Arthur asked, tilting his head back. He had forsaken the couch seat beside his sister to sit on the floor, leaning against Ben's legs.

"Four days. I leave on Boxing Day," Ben told him.

"Good enough," Arthur grinned. He left the day after Boxing Day. He was spending New Years in Toronto and then heading to Argentina with the CBC.

Irving leaned against the doorway a moment, a slight smile on his face as Teresa and Charles playfully riled Elijah who still had a bit of trouble realizing they were teasing, and Ben's hand dropped to Arthur's shoulder, Finley wedged between him and Alexander, leaning his head against his shoulder and smiling. Elijah's wife and two children were meeting them at the church, they knew he had only come to meet Alexander with his brothers first, just in case.

Irving felt a familiar pang in his chest because his lovely, wonderful, crazy wife wasn't there to slip her arms around her waist as she hadn't been the past seven years. It hurt still but a little less, looking at his family.

"Don't get comfortable," he warned, smiling. "We'll be late, again, and we're too large a group to sneak in after the service has started."

There was a collective groan from his children and Irving spotted Alexander's bemused smile. He could accept this one, he thought. "Up, let's go. Remember your hats and mitts! I'm not driving anyone to the hospital on Christmas Eve because they've got frost bite!"

* * *

"Do you get the feeling," Finley asked, "that Ben knows we aren't telling him something?"

"No," Alexander answered honestly. "Why?"

Finley shrugged, raising the cigarette to his lips and taking a long drag before answering, "I think we should tell him about everything."

Alexander raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No but…" Finley sighed, "I want to tell him."

Alexander said nothing, for a moment, just looked at him. They were alone, standing outside the church in the cold night air so Finley could have a smoke before going inside. Alexander hadn't been inside a church in a long time, and never an Anglican one, but going to the carol sing on Christmas Eve was a tradition.

"Do you think he'll believe us?" Alexander asked.

Finley shrugged, inhaling deeply and shivering in the cold. He flicked some ash into the snow. "I think a part of him will."

"Boromir," Alexander sighed. He remembered that, thinking about it made a part of him ache. "Is this for him or you or neither?"

"Bit of all three, really," Finley replied. "Faramir wants this, and really fucking badly, but they did meet again, after Faramir died. It's different though, doing it in life. But I think Ben needs to know and I think I need to tell him. It's important he understands, especially where it changes me and he will notice that. I'd bet he does by tomorrow night."

"He's your brother," Alexander told him. "And you know more than I do."

Finley smiled slightly, finished the cigarette in another long drag. He flicked the butt away into the snow. "I'll talk to him tonight, I think."

Alexander's arm found his waist. "We'll talk to him."

* * *

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Finley bent over his brother. Alexander spared a hand to grab his wrist, stroking the inside, absently finding his pulse while keeping Ben's unconscious form from the floor.

"Calm down, Fin, it's okay, his pulse is strong," Alexander told him levelly. "Go get..."

A moan interrupted them and Ben made himself sit up, wincing and pressing his knuckles against his temples. "Christ, Fin, don't fucking do that again, okay? Fucking hurts..."

Finley stared at him and then Ben grabbed him and held him close. His fingers tangled in Finley's hair and he let half a sob, half a laugh escape. Alexander stepped back. It wasn't Ben and Finley reacting to each other any more.

After church Teresa and Arthur had gone out, a bag of clinking bottles slung over Terera's shoulders. It was another tradition, Alexander had been told, as was Charles dragging them home in a cab around dawn. Elijah had taken his family home and Irving was on the phone to his late wife's brother. They had taken the opportunity to talk to Ben.

Ben had looked skeptical until Finley had mentioned the name Boromir. At that he had given a low groan and gone boneless. Alexander had managed to catch him, ending up on the floor himself but at least with some semblance of control and acting as a cushion.

Alexander knew, felt, viewing the reunion he saw in front of him now, watching Ben hold Finley tightly to him, seeing him pull back and look as Finley tearfully, that Boromir had come home to his little brother at last.

It was the younger who seemed strong then, who bent the elder's head and pressed a kiss of blessing or forgiveness but most assuredly love to his brow.

Then they pulled apart, slightly, and Ben hugged Finley to him, felt him shiver and closed his eyes exhaling slowly. They let go eventually and Ben began rubbing at his temples again.

"Christ, fuck, I'm going to have a headache for days," Ben complained. "Warn a guy next time, will you?"

"What, exactly, happened?" Alexander asked.

"A lord of Gondor decided to return rather fucking abruptly," Boromir told him. "Fuck, really abruptly, fucking blunt bastard. I remember everything and that much of a download all at once isn't pleasant. I hope yours was kinder."

Finley laughed and if it edged on relieved hysteria no one said anything. "Faramir was pretty gentle with me, considering. Alex doesn't remember everything, just bits and pieces."

Ben turned, looked at him and, again, Alexander felt that it wasn't Ben he was seeing anymore. "Do you recall me?"

Alexander felt some part of himself that wasn't him respond. "I do."

Grey eyes regarded him with gladness and a hand touched the back of his neck, drawing their foreheads together as Captain came back to King. It had not only been Fin...Faramir and Boromir who had needed their reunion.

"I told you I would follow you, my brother," he said hoarsely and Alexander moved forward, hugging him hard, closing his eyes to see the scene that had been tickling at the back of his mind play out.

Ben let go first, wiped at a stray tear and laughed once because he didn't know what else to do saying, at great length, "I think we all need to have a drink."

* * *

"Lie down; you'll sleep better if you aren't so tense," Alexander instructed, putting his hands flat on Finley's back when he did lay down then beginning to knead firmly. "It went better than I thought with Ben."

"Yeah," Finley replied, closing his eyes and concentrating on the feel of Alexander's hands soothing away some of the tension he always carried. "We owe Boromir for that."

Alexander snorted. He kept massaging Finley's back, feeling the knots ease beneath his hands, feeling the scar tissue that never would too. Alexander loved Finley, even his scars, but he would take them away if he could because Finley hated them.

They could...lessen them maybe, with surgery but Finley wouldn't agree to that, not even to get rid of the scars. And, really, it wasn't a good idea for him to have any unneeded surgery; there were more risks for him.

Finley had relaxed some and Alexander stopped, keeping one hand flat on the small of his back, looking at his smooth skin against the cross patch of scars for a moment. "Finley?"

"Hmm?" Finley murmured sleepily. "Alex?"

Alexander got off the bed and went to his bag, looking through it for a moment and pulling out an envelope. Finley roused a little, propping himself up on an elbow and watching him. Alexander smiled.

"I didn't want to give you this tomorrow," Alexander explained, "in case you don't think you can but I want you to know I'd like to give this to you."

Finley looked at him oddly. "You're not going to give me a ring are you?"

Alexander laughed and shook his head. "No, no ring. It's just a print out, an itinerary, sort of. I haven't bought the tickets yet but..."

Finley had opened the envelope and unfolded the sheet of paper inside, looking at it dazedly. "Greece?"

"I thought we could end there," Alexander offered. "Or begin, if you'd prefer."

"Alex..." Finley stopped, unsure of what to say.

"If you don't think it's something you can do, I can wait," Alexander told him, he slipped back onto the bed, his arm went across Finley's back and he let his face fall close to his. "And don't say it's too much. I want to see these places again with you."

"Alex," Finley looked at him, moved forward and kissed him slowly. "I...Thank you. Yes, I want this."

* * *

Seadragon68: Glad you like it so much! The person I know, Lewie, actually bites people and she does a range of other wacky things as well! Poor Evan is in good hands, even if he doesn't know it yet. Thiri does know how to ride and more than horses!  
Alex and Fin...yeah, they're going to be okay I think!

Earendil Eldar: Heh, well, I had to put my home in there somewhere right? Even if I don't live in Nova Scotia...Yes, Alex and Fin are really going to be okay, they worried me for awhile there.

Elenhin: Well, there will likely be a scene in the sequel demonstrating this more but Fin's extended family really took the time to get him at ease with them again, especially Roo, aka Arthur. Thiri hasn't dragged Evan anywhere...yet! Well, it isn't only the biting...

_Updates on characters:_

_Irving Roth Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth_

_Elijah "El" Roth Elphir_

_Charles "Chirion" Roth Erchirion_

_Arthur "Roo" Roth Amrothos_

_Teresa "Thiri" Roth Lothiriel_


	17. Epilogue

_Author's Notes: I am VERY VERY VERY! sorry about the delay which is why I'm posting this unbeta'd. There was originally supposed to be another chapter in here, about Alexander and Finely's trip, but I decided that it would be better off as it's own ficlet. _

_This is the end of Reborn then. I'm not quite sure what to think._

_There will be a sequel and hopefully bits of the tripe before then. I'm trying to do something special with the sequel. See, Greece is my favourite place on Earth so far and I want to do it justice so...the ficlet for their trip will likely be words and pictures and it will probably be posted in the words only form here and the whole form on my livejournal. I don't know when it will be entirely finished but it will likely be before the sequel starts. _

_I will start posting THAT in about 2 months, after school is done._

_If you would like to contact me, as I'm sure this will gain yells, my address is to all my loyal readers and I'll see you in late April/early June!_

**Epilogue**

"Where's that other suitcase?"

"You left it in the living room," Finley called back, smiling as Alexander came thumping back downstairs.

They had gotten home late last night after too much planning and too much worry had turned into a few almost perfect months in Europe. They had ended the trip in Greece. Finley's smile broadened. He doubted he had had such a good, easy time since he was a child. And then it had been summer vacations at his uncle's, before his twelth birthday.

Their flight arrived home just after 2 a.m. Finley didn't remember it, he had been dopey from the sedative he took to fly. They'd slept in until nearly noon and were trying to unpack a bit before going to dinner at Alexander's parents that night.

Alexander smiled back at his lover. Finley was tanned and a bit plumper then when they had left. He was still too thin, Alexander thought he might always be too thin, but Greek food seemed to have agreed with him. He looked healthier with colour on his face and more weight on his body. He was still smoking like a chimney; he had one dangling from his fingers now as he unpacked, but Alexander ignored that. It wasn't something that could change.

He bent down and kissed Finley briefly before proceeding to the kitchen. Annie and Eve had blown through, they had been fully stocked before coming home, mostly with food cooked by his father's chef. Eve was a notoriously bad cook and Annie couldn't be bothered half the time.

"Damnit, Alex, how many of these ugly statues did you buy?" Finley called from the living room.

Alexander chuckled, coming back and passing Finley a bottle of water. Finley scowled at it but drank it. Alexander had cultivated the habit overseas, making sure Finley didn't get dehydrated by carrying around bottles of water for him constantly. They had had trouble once, finding just plain, drinkable water when Finley had been edging onto dehydration and Alexander wasn't about to let that happen twice.

"I was planning to give those to my father," Alexander said. "You don't think he'd appreciate them?"

Finley snorted, amused, leaning back and looking at his lover who had come to sit beside him. "You're dad's taste isn't that bad."

Alexander laughed, "No, but he'll get a kick out of using them to horrify my mother. They'll be popping up just before dinner parties for months."

"As long as they're not hanging about here," Finley muttered but he was smiling. Alexander looped an arm around his waist as he went through the suitcase, looking for the souvenirs they had wrapped up in t-shirts to keep them from breaking.

"Fin...?" Alexander said quietly.

"Hmmm?" Finley replied, looking up at him with lazy, happy eyes.

"I love you," Alexander told him, bending close to nuzzle his neck before finding his lips and kissing him slowly.

"Mmm, you too," Finley replied, his eyes soft as he went back to unpacking. Alexander's hand continued to come through his hair slowly.

It hadn't been what Alexander was going to ask when he opened his mouth but...No. In a relationship with someone other than Finley, yeah, it would have been a good time but... He'd asked once before, asked Finley to move in with him, and been told no. Finley still needed a place of his own, he needed that piece of independence still, might need it always. He spent most of his time at Alexander's but...he still needed that little bit that was his. Alexander understood that.

"Here, I'll take this bunch downstairs," Alexander offered, gathering up all the discarded clothing. Pretty much all of it needed a good wash.

"Okay, I think there's one more thing to find in this one and then I'll bring the rest of the clothing down," Finley said, unwrapping two shot glasses from Athens. "I think it's another one of those statues. I thought you weren't going to buy all the gods."

"Changed my mind," Alexander told him, smirking, before he disappeared into the basement.

Finley shook his head, laughing softly to himself. It had become apparent their second day their that, given the chance, Alexander liked to buy lots of souvenirs, both tacky and not, to take back to people or just keep. They'd hauled about backpacks full of them and shipped some home early. Alexander hadn't had a house to clutter before, now he had one and was, finally, happily providing more than necessary clutter.

An unexpected quirk, Finley admitted, one that even Faramir, he knew, had been surprised to see. But an amusing one and one that was, Finley thought with relish, well and truly a wholly Alexander thing.

He'd hit the lump that was, he was pretty sure, the last ugly statue. He hoped it was of Apollo. He had already uncovered every other god and goddess. If it wasn't Apollo then Alexander had likely bought two sets and stowed the rest in another suitcase.

He was groaning at the sight of what was most definitely not the sun god judging by the size of the statue's breasts when the doorbell rang. It was, Finley thought, probably Annie and Eve and he wondered if he could foist the damn things off on them as he went to open it.

Standing, still holding the door and looking at the person on the doorstep made his heart leap into his throat. He didn't know why; he had never seen the young man before. Never seen the pale, thin face with dirty brown hair and green eyes before. But he knew him. Faramir knew him. Faramir was reacting to strongly, with such confusion and need and joy that Finley felt it himself, right in that moment, as if it were his own set of emotions.

The young man, boy really, still, Finley thought, looked up at him with hesitant, hopeful eyes. "Father?"

* * *

_AM: Yeah, Boromir was getting ansty, he thought I wouldn't get to him until the sequel. He'll be around again more in the sequel._

_Faceted Mind: I feel kind of bad. This has been a rollarcoaster and instead of putting it back at the safe start I've kind of left it hanging at another hill. Oops? Hope to see you again for the sequel and the trip fic._

_Nonce: Thank you! Regarding Ben/Boromir: There will be more of him in the sequel including some interaction between, essentially, Boromir and Faramir. I'm not sure of a flashback but what happened with Ben/Boromir will be explored a bit more throughly later...And I'm nto sure I wouldn't say Ben was more important to Finley's life than Boromir was to Faramir._

_Seadragon68: Yes, Boromir wasn't one to beat around the bush, was he? Actually, it's Boromir's slight, slight interference that made Ben give Alexander a chance when he showed up on his doorstep looking for Fin. _

_This story is coming to an end, yeah, but the characters aren't quite done with me yet. There is still a sequel coming. _

_Elenhin: I knew from the start what was going to happen with Ben/Boromir. Boromir was rather pushy about it! The daisy is something a friend of mine did with big smiley faces, the daisy thing was referencing dear Daisy. AND there MAY be, at some point, a certain appearance by PJ's Gondorian brothers. There is something rather special about them._

_Thiri is by no means done with her cowboy! She enjoys him a lot! They will definietly be around for the sequel! snerk That song works so very well. I have a feeling he's snared already!_

_LadyBush: Ben's reaction has been planned out since the beginning. That was always just the way it was going to be. Boromir wouldn't have it any other way! I really wanted to establish the connection between Alex and Ben as their past selves as well as Ben and Fin because, really, that was a huge relationship for both of them AND it has influenced stuff between them before. The breakfast chapter was half inspired by a "hobbits" breakfast. Those being the breakfasts I have with my friends and then just...I dunno, popped into my head on the GO train one day! Alex does look pretty close to Viggo as Aragorn so...yeah, lovely image!_

_H.F: Alexander has hints of memories but I'm not sure everything will be revealed to him in the same way it has been for Fin and Ben. They all have traits of their former lives but have really evolved into their own people. _

_MexicanDevil-RoadCrew: Thiri's fun. She's based on someone I know who is, frankly, weird!_

_athelas63: Yes, Ben had a headache for a bout a week after that. Fin has really gotten comfortable around Alex...of course, I can't promise things will stay that way but for now he is. Finley's extended family overwhelms me! The problem is that they've all assserted themselves as these really flushed out characters and they're hard to ignore!_

_The Little Green Imp: The extent to which people remember is determined by a couple of things and one of them is how much Elvish blood they had in them. Another is trauma. Simply put Alexander/Aragorn didn't have as much of either as the brothers!_


End file.
